If I Knew Then What I Know Now
by What You See in the Shadows
Summary: Given an opportunity to change his family's destiny, Dean Winchester finds himself back in 1983 as his four year old self, yet with his adult memories still intact. But can he alter the events of that tragic night? And if so, will young Dean, his family, and Castiel be ready to survive all the evil that destiny has in store for them? pre-series AU
1. From End to Beginning

_**Author's Note: **And I'm back with a new story! I'm a little nervous about this one since it's a bit different. But I'd like to thank both new21writer and Hasmik Aharonyan for supporting this when I told them my story concept. This story starts off a bit in the future but most of it will take place pre-series. But before we get started, I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed 'Death Wish' and my weechester Christmas story 'A Miracle in Motel Room 34'. And now, on to the story..._

**Chapter One: From End to Beginning**

Dean Winchester tried to drag himself across the cold concrete floor to reach his brother's side. He wasn't sure he was going to make it, though. Not that it mattered too much. Sam was dead, had been for quite a few minutes already, and Dean was well on his way to joining him. But still, if he had to die like this, he at least wanted to see his brother one last time. Was that really too much to ask? Apparently it was, because there was just no way that Dean was going to make it. His back had been broken when one of the demons had hurled him into the cement post, so he couldn't move his legs at all. And that was after another demon had mangled his left arm beyond repair. Dean would've passed out long ago if it wasn't for the strange spell that had been set over this demon torture facility that made it impossible for a person to loose unconsciousness until they were dead. Still, Dean used his right arm to drag himself another few inches closer to Sam.

The gravely injured hunter had to stop moving when he felt a terrible pain in his chest. He let out a low moan which turned into a coughing fit. When he finally got his breathing back under control, there was a large amount of blood in a puddle by his hand. Dean spit out one last mouthful of the metallic tasting stuff and then tried to crawl forwards, not even caring that he was dragging his damaged body through the blood that he'd just coughed up. He was only a few more meters away. Maybe he could make it there after all.

But then a pair of nice looking dress shoes appeared in front of him. Dean looked up to see a balding forty-something year old businessman with black eyes looming over him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Disneyland." Dean gasped out. "'Cause… boy, do I… need a… vacation."

"Do you really want those to be your final words?"

"Let you know… if I… think… of anything… better." Dean managed to get the words out even though it was a struggle to talk. Blood ran from his mouth with every syllable and something was rattling in his chest.

The demon smirked down at him. "I don't think you have the time to come up with anything else."

Dean braced himself for whatever was to come. This was it. The end. He was about to join all the others. His mom. His dad. Ellen and Jo. Bobby. Garth. Benny. Sammy. They'd all passed on before him. They'd all left him alone. But now he was going to be with them and soon the entire world would follow. Because they'd failed. _He'd_ failed.

Just then, light seemed to pour from the demon and he crumpled to the ground. Dean blinked and looked at Castiel who was now standing over him.

"'Bout time… you joined… the… party."

"Dean."

"Hey… Cas."

"I'm sorry. For this. For everything."

"Fix it." Dean meant for it to come out like an order but his voice cracked, making it sound more like a plea.

"I can't. At least not how you want me to."

"What…"

Cas crouched down next to Dean. "I can't heal you. Nor can I bring Sam back."

"You… should've… been here."

"It wouldn't have changed to outcome. Perhaps you would've survived today, but you would've lost soon enough. We can't win this."

"Nice… outlook, Cas. Way… to stay… positive."

"It's true, Dean."

"So what? You… just… gave up?" Dean really didn't want to waste his last breaths arguing with the angel, but he was pissed that his friend hadn't been there and he wanted answers.

"No. I found another way. The only way to stop all this from ending this way is to stop it from beginning."

"Beginning? I don't…" Dean's body was wracked with another bout of coughing. When he got his breath back, the dying hunter tried to ask his question again. "I don't understand… what that… means. What… beginning?"

"The moment all of this was put into motion. The night of November 2nd, 1983. The night your mother died and Sam was infected with Azazel's blood."

"You said… it couldn't be… stopped. Destiny… and all… that… crap."

"I was wrong. There is a way. But you have to agree to some, well let's just call it some guidelines."

"What guidelines?" Dean wished that Cas would just get to the point before they had to continue the conversation in the afterlife. He wasn't going to last much longer. The pain was getting worse and he was weakening rapidly.

"I can take you back but you need to stay there. You need to grow up there. And you must still hunt. Those you and your family have saved must still be saved. Some things you will be able to change while other things must still happen."

Dean tried to comprehend what Cas was saying but the loss of blood was making it difficult. Besides, the angel seemed to be being a bit cryptic. "Will… my mom… dad… Sammy… will they live?"

"That is up to you and what you do. But yes, you will have the chance to save them from all the events that Azazel set into motion. But you will not get the same chance to start over as they will. You will remain the same."

"I don't… understand."

"You will not be able to escape all that's happened to you. You will always carry the memories even if you change the events that caused them." Cas looked sad at that announcement. "You can say no to this arrangement if you wish, and I'll end your suffering now. You can finally know peace."

Dean still couldn't fully comprehend what the angel was trying to tell him but he understood enough to know that things probably weren't going to turn out well for him if he accepted the terms of this deal. But if his parents and his little brother could be saved, then his fate didn't really matter all that much. Dean had always put his family first and would continue to do so.

"I'll… do it, Cas."

"Dean…"

"Dude, I said yes." Dean growled out.

Cas nodded. Then he reached out his hand and gently placed it on the injured man's head. The pain immediately faded and then so did the rest of the world.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean's eyes flew open and he let out a gasp. The room he was in was lit by a soft glow and seemed vaguely familiar. He was lying in a comfortable bed under soft blankets. Dean took a quick mental stock of himself and was pleased to discover that he could once again feel and move his legs. It no longer hurt to breathe and the rest of his body was not in extreme agony any more. Dean lifted his left arm up to see if the damage had been healed and that's when he realized that something was very wrong.

His arm was no longer broken and shattered, the skin wasn't torn apart and all his fingers were once more attached. But his arm wasn't his. It couldn't be because it was the size of a small child's arm. Dean pulled up the sleeve of the flannel pajama shirt and pinched the skin. Ouch. Yeah, it was definitely his arm. But what the hell? Frantically, he kicked the covers off of himself and saw that his entire body was now way too tiny to be his own. Dean ran his fingers through hair that was much too long and then down his small face. Oh yeah, something was very wrong.

Dean hopped out of the bed and looked around the room. There was a dresser, a child sized desk and chair, bookshelves, a toy box, and the bed he'd just been in. The floor was cluttered with toys and a partially completed large floor puzzle. Dean stared at the incomplete picture and realized where he was. His childhood bedroom. He looked back down at himself. He was a child in his childhood bedroom. The pieces were now falling into place.

"You coulda mentioned that this was part of the deal, Cas." Dean mumbled in a voice that was much younger than it should have been. "Just how the hell am I supposed to stop the crap from hitting the fan when I'm freakin' four years old?!"

He felt fear, anger, anxiety, and about a million other emotions welling up inside of him all at once. Tears burned behind his eyes. Dean swiped them away. Why the hell was he crying? This was far from the worst situation he'd ever been in. Definitely one of the most unusual, but not cry-worthy, that was for sure. Of course he hadn't been a little kid during the other incidents, so that was probably it. But he did have all of his adult memories, so he shouldn't be reacting like this. He couldn't afford it. He had to think and come up with some sort of plan to stop the coming events. Speaking of which…

Dean walked over to the wall closest to his bedroom door to get a look at the calendar. He wanted to know how much time he had to get ready. He was hoping for at least a week or so. More time would be better, since he needed to come up with a plan, get whatever supplies he'd need, and prepared for the confrontation.

The boy reached up and flipped the light switch. He squinted as a bright light illuminated his bedroom. Dean saw that the cheerful looking teddy bear calendar for the year of 1983 was already turned to the month of November. And according to the stickers he'd used to mark off days passed, it was the second day.

Dean's eyes widened and he shook his small head in denial. He didn't have weeks or even days. He had hours at best or possibly just minutes to prevent the tragedy that was about to once again befall his family.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed. And for those who've read my story 'From Childhood's Hour', this version of 4yr old adult Dean will be similar but also very different. Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks._


	2. I Need Help

_**Author's Note: **I'm back (I hope you all think that this is a good thing)! I want to thank Eliza Ghost, Araina Richardson, new21writer, KnightJelly, Julefor, jokergirl94, and Wunjo for their awesome reviews. I was also amazed by the amount of followers and favorites this has already gotten. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying. And now, on with the show!_

**Chapter Two: I Need Help**

Dean fought back the panic that was threatening to overtake him. His heart was trying to beat through his little chest as he looked frantically around the room, praying that there would be something he could use to stop the demon who was about to wreck havoc upon his family. And it looked as though his prayers had been answered. There, underneath the bed that he had just woken up on, was an old, very familiar duffle bag.

Dean got down on his hands and knees and pulled the bag out. Yep, it was definitely his. The duffle he'd carried around for a good part of his life. But that made little sense. The bag certainly didn't exist back in 1983. But hey, never look a time-traveling gift horse in the mouth, right?

The boy unzipped the bag and looked through the contents. A smile lit up his face as he pulled out the colt.

"Awesome! Dude, Cas, wherever you are, I take back every bad thing I've ever said about you." He thought over what he'd just stated and shrugged. "Well, most of it anyways."

Dean looked back into the duffle and pulled out the demon killing knife as well. He laid both weapons out on the floor and went back to unpacking. Next he extracted his father's journal, which he had added to over the years. He placed that next to the weapons and continued his search. Three more guns were taken out along with boxes of salt, iron, and silver ammunition and a bottle of holy water. Looked like Cas had paid attention in Hunting101. At the bottom of the duffle bag was a large sealed manila envelope.

Dean's small hands pulled out the object and tore the top open. He pulled out a sheet of paper. Written on the piece of copy paper in perfect handwriting was a short note.

_Dean,_

_I don't know when I will get to your side as I've never done anything like this before, but I felt that these items would help you. Your task will not be easy but I am certain that you will have success since I have never known you to let your family down. I also included some of your personal affects that I thought you might want. I wish you well._

_-Castiel_

Dean read the letter again and then turned the envelope upside down to see what 'personal affects' Cas was talking about. A few photos fell out along with a small object. The boy stared at the object for a moment before picking it up. It was something he'd once held dear but had not seen in a very long time. A keepsake he'd dropped into a motel trash can many years ago. Dean tied a knot in the cord to shorten it up a bit and then put the amulet back around his neck, where it belonged. He had no clue how Cas had gotten his angelic hands on it, but was glad to have the necklace that Sammy had given to him back. And he vowed to never take it off again.

The young hunter took no more time to go through the stuff. He grabbed the colt and stood up. Azazel was going to be here at any moment and Dean was going to make sure the yellow-eyed son of a bitch was not going to tear his family apart. That bastard was not going to get anywhere near little Sammy and Mary Winchester was going to live.

But Dean would need help. A four year old boy would not be able to fire a gun. His arm would most likely get broken from the kickback. And he knew his little body wouldn't have the strength to plunge the demon killing knife into Azazel even if he could somehow get close enough to use it.

Dean left his bedroom and walked down the hall. He hesitated when he reached his parents' room. What the hell was he going to say? He knew from his dad's account of this night that the eldest Winchester was already downstairs fast asleep in his chair and that Dean's mom would be in bed. Dean didn't even consider going to his father. John Winchester knew nothing of the supernatural and could not be counted on tonight. But Mary had been a hunter and had encountered Azazel ten years ago. As much as Dean would love to keep her out of this fight, she would understand the situation and be able to help. At least that was Dean's hope.

The boy walked into the room and over to his mom's side of the bed. He stared at her for a moment. He'd seen her a few times in the years since her death but it never failed to make his heart swell. And this time, the feeling was amplified by the knowledge that this was not just a brief visit to a Mary Winchester of the past. If he succeeded, he wouldn't ever have to lose her again.

Dean reached up and gently shook the sleeping woman.

"Mom… Mom, please wake up. I need help."

"Dean?" His mom opened her eyes and blinked sleepily at him. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"I need you to listen to me, Mom. It's important."

Now she seemed to wake instantly. Dean knew that he must be giving off serious 'something's wrong' vibes but he didn't have time to be subtle or beat around the bush.

"Dean? What is it?"

"Mom, there's a demon coming. Tonight. And it's going to go after Sammy."

"What? Dean, what are you talking about?"

"The yellow-eyed demon, Mom. The one who killed your parents. He's coming for Sammy tonight. We have to kill him first. Here." Dean handed the colt out to his mom, whose eyes grew wide at the sight of her little son holding a gun. She snatched it from his hands.

"How did you get this? How do you know about demon?"

"It's a very long story that I don't have time to tell. Please, Mom. We have to save Sammy before it's too late. I got a plan."

Mary sat up in bed, set the colt down next to her, and pulled open the drawer of her nightstand. Dean stepped forwards to see what she was doing and was hit square in the face with a splash of water. Sputtering, the boy jumped back.

"Dude! Holy water, Mom? Really?"

"What are you? What have you done to my son?"

"Mom, it's me. I just know some stuff and I'll tell you how later. We don't have time for this right now, though. But look into my eyes and tell me I'm not your son."

She did as asked and got a confused look on her face.

"No… I don't… I don't know."

"Sammy is in danger! Please, let's just go to him." Dean knew his mom was skeptical and understood that she was wary of being led into a trap, but finally her mother's instinct won out and she started for the door to go check on her baby. Dean grabbed the colt and scrambled after her.

"We're gonna need this."

"Guns don't kill demons." His mom pulled the weapon from his little hands.

"This one does. It's the colt. You know, the one that kills anything."

"How did you get it, Dean?"

"An angel left it in my bedroom."

Mary paused and looked like she'd say something, but then proceeded into Sammy's nursery. Dean followed and breathed a sigh of relief to find the room empty. Sammy was sleeping undisturbed and there were no flickering lights. It appeared that they had gotten there in time.

"Where is he?"

"Not here yet. Which is good, 'cause that means we still got time to set up a trap."

"There's no 'we', Dean. You go back to your room and I'll come when this is over. Then we'll talk."

"No!" Dean cried out. He was picturing his mom confronting the demon and ending up on the ceiling once again. Not gonna happen. He felt his eyes tearing up at the thought of losing her again. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't have any control over his emotions. "He'll kill you, Mom. You need my help or this won't end well."

"No. Either you're not my Dean, in which case I don't trust you to be here with me. Or you are my Dean, and I'd never put you in danger."

"If you confront him by yourself, you will die. And the demon will infect Sammy with his blood, screwing him up for life. Dad will become a hunter to avenge you and me and Sammy will be raised into that life too. I can't let that happen, Mom. I can't." And now tears were falling from his eyes, leaving trails down his childish face. But he didn't care so long as his mother listened to him.

Mary stared at him for a moment and her heart seemed to melt. No mother could look at their four year old crying and pleading for help and not react. She knelt down and hugged him.

"Dean, I don't know what's going on but I'm trusting you here, sweetie. Afterwards, though, we are going to have a long talk."

"Mom, after this, I'll sit and talk with you forever." Dean assured her. And if they both survived this, he knew he'd never tire of hearing her voice. "Okay, here's the plan…"

…

_...supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Sammy's nursery was quiet except for the tick-tock of a wall clock that threatened to drive Dean insane. He sat alone in the corner of the room watching his baby brother sleep and contemplating the bizarre turn his life had taken. He couldn't believe he was actually back here, on this night, with an opportunity to change things. Of course, it would've been a hell of a lot easier if he wasn't four freakin' years old, but he was certain that Cas had his reasons for doing it this way. But that didn't mean that he like it. It seemed that his tiny little body came with really big emotions and very little control over them. The whole situation was weird, even for him. And he was going to have a hell of a hard time dealing with his parents after this encounter with Azazel. Dean knew that he was incredibly lucky that his mom had listened to him so far but also knew that she was confused and a bit suspicious. As a hunter she was following through with this to protect her family and as a mother she couldn't deny her first born son help when he'd begged for her help. But when this was all over, he was going to have to tell her the truth and wouldn't that be fun?

Just then, the infernal tick-tocking stopped and the yellow, crescent moon shaped light began to flicker. Show time.

Dean got into a crouch, ready for what was to come. Suddenly, a figure appeared right in front of the window. It was man shaped but stayed in the shadows. But even the dark couldn't hide the sickly yellow eyes as the demon took a step towards Sammy's crib. And that was as close as Dean was going to allow the son of a bitch to get to his little brother.

"Stay away from my brother, you bastard." Dean ordered as he rose to his feet and stepped forwards to confront the demon.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **As any of you who have read my previous stories know, I LOVE CLIFFHANGERS! But I beg of you not to kill me for them as death would make it difficult to write. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please take just a short moment to leave me a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	3. Changing Destiny?

_**Author's Note: **I decided that I couldn't leave you guys hanging until 2013, so Happy New Years! I want to thank julefor, jokergirl94, Araina Richardson, Stone120, BranchSuper, Shorty22133, PsychoPicasso, KnightJelly, sarah, Eliza Ghost, and Wunjo for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Three: Changing Destiny?**

Yellow eyes focused on the small boy, who stood bravely in front of the demon. Well, at least Dean hoped that he appeared brave. Inside he was terrified. He stood absolutely no chance against Azazel and they both knew it.

"Go back to bed, kid. This is all just a bad dream."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

The demon possessed man tilted his head, obviously curious about the child's reaction. Probably not what he expected from a four year old.

"There's something about you…"

"We've met before." Dean stated. "Think real hard and maybe it'll come to you."

Azazel studied him but there was no recognition.

Dean smirked. "I look a bit different but we met ten years ago. You possessed my grandfather. Killed both him and his wife. Then you killed my dad but made a deal with my mom to bring him back. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"I remember. But how do you?"

"I have friends in high places, remember? An angel on my shoulder, I believe you called him."

"But... no, you haven't lived through that yet."

"Oh, you'd be surprised at the crap that I've lived through." Dean revealed. "But I've also had some good times too. Killing your ass being a major highlight. And now, I'm gonna do it again. This time before you screw with my family."

This produced a creepy smile on the face of the guy that Azazel was wearing. "I don't know how you are aware of your future, but it doesn't matter. You are a mere child. You have no hope against me."

Dean opened his mouth to continue the verbal sparring match when he was suddenly thrown against the wall by an invisible force. The boy found himself pinned against the hard surface with his feet dangling inches from the ground. He couldn't move. Dean tried to fight the overwhelming terror coursing through him but the best he could do was keep from losing control over his bladder. The damned childish emotions were drowning him as Azazel walked across the room to stand in front of him. On the plus side, the demon was now ignoring Sammy completely. And Dean had to keep it that way.

"Dude, check out the big, bad demon. Picking on a four year old. That's just pathetic, man."

"We'll see which one of us is pathetic in a moment, Deano. I think it'll be the one whose insides are decorating the floor. And that will be you."

Dean felt his tiny body slide up the wall and dearly hoped that he wasn't headed for the ceiling, knowing that that would be the death of him. He let out a sigh of relief when he stopped moving upwards a good two feet from hitting his head. But then his sigh became a pained cry as a sharp pain flared on his stomach. He looked down to see blood soaking through his pajama top right over his belly. Tears streamed down his face and he prayed that this wasn't the end.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Mary Winchester stood outside of her baby boy's nursery and waited for her older son to say the codeword. She'd wanted to run into the room as soon as she'd heard a man's voice talking with Dean, but her instincts told her to trust her son's judgment. Somehow he knew things that he just shouldn't know and one of those things was how to defeat this threat to the Winchester family.

The threat. It was her fault. She'd given this demon bastard an invitation to stop by her home ten years ago when she'd made the deal to bring John back to life. And she'd lived in dread of the day that he'd show up ever since. Oh, it wasn't always on her mind. She had plenty of things to occupy her thoughts during the day. Being a stay at home mom for little Dean was hard work. And then, the ten year mark was upon her and she ended up in the hospital giving birth to her second son. She'd searched the entire house when she'd gotten home, but there was no sign of any demonic activity. Ever since then, she'd relaxed and let her guard down. But apparently that had been a mistake. It made no sense though. Why had the demon waited an extra six months to invade her home? What was important about today?

Then it came to her. Words spoken over ten years ago by another Dean. The hunter had practically begged her not to get out of bed on November second, 1983. But now she had. What did that mean? Was it possible that her son was possessed and had led her into a trap? No. She'd used the holy water on him and it had just annoyed him. Besides, the man in the other room didn't seem pleased with Mary's first born, so she doubted that they were working together.

But the conversation she was listening to was surreal. Dean's voice was coming to her loud and clear and it was definitely her little boy's voice but the words that were coming out of his mouth did not sound like him at all. First he talked about the deaths of her parents and John, something he should know nothing about. Then he mentioned having a friend who was an angel (the second time he'd brought up an angel). But the most disconcerting part was when he started using what Mary referred to as 'potty language'. Ever since the boy had first started speaking, he'd always been so soft-spoken and polite. He'd never said anything like words coming out of his mouth at the moment.

Mary jumped when she heard a thud come from the room. She wanted to run in more than ever, but Dean had been adamant about what her fate, and that of her family, would be if she didn't heed his warnings and follow through with his plan. And even though he was acting nothing like himself, something inside of her insisted that she trust him.

It was hard not to react when she heard the other voice threaten her son but when she heard his childish voice let out a scream, Mary abandoned the idea of waiting for Dean to say 'Impala' and rushed into the nursery.

The woman was horrified to see her son pinned to the wall just below the ceiling, his pajama shirt drenched with blood that was dripping down to puddle onto the floor. He had tears running down his face and looked like he was terrified and in extreme agony. Mary raised the weapon she'd been given at the man standing in her baby's room.

"Stop it! Let him go."

The man turned and the former hunter saw his eyes. His yellow eyes. Dean had told her who it was that would be showing up, but it was still a shock to see him again and Mary felt anger fill her mind. This bastard had killed her parents, had come for her baby and was now harming her eldest son. He was going to die.

"Mary. So good to see you again." The demon smirked at her.

"Let my son go."

"No, I don't think so. He's boasted twice now about being the one who kills me. That won't happen if I gut the brat right now."

"Dean!" Mary heard her husband's voice calling as the sound of his footsteps could be heard on the stairs. Of course he'd come. There was no way he could've missed the boy's screaming only moments before. But then the door to the nursery slammed shut.

"I think there's enough people at this party already, don't you?" The demon commented.

Mary was relieved. John would only have gotten himself killed had he made it into the room. A moment later the door knob rattled but the door stayed closed. Obviously, the slamming door had clued her husband in to where the problem was. When the door didn't budge, a loud pounding started.

"What's going on in there? Dean, are you okay, buddy? Mary, you in there?"

"I'm here, John." She called back.

"Yeah, we're all here, John." The demon mocked.

"Mary, who's in there? I'm calling the cops. Whoever you are, don't you touch my family!"

"No! John, don't call the police! Just… just stay there." The last thing that was needed right now was to throw civilians in the mix. Besides, she didn't want to explain where she'd gotten a gun and why she killed a man. Because this demon was definitely going to die. She just needed him distracted enough to get a shot in without him using his powers to disappear or deflect the bullet.

"What? You don't want lover boy to die again?" The demon laughed. "Now, lower that gun and maybe you can live through this. After all, we both know that bullets can't hurt me." Despite his words, he was looking at the colt with apprehension.

"And we… we all know… that the ones… in that gun can." Dean spoke up in a weak, pain-filled voice.

The yellow-eyed demon turned to face the boy and that's when Mary made her move. She aimed the colt and fired. The bullet left the weapon at high speed and buried itself in the back of the demon possessed man's head. He made as if to turn around and face her, but then faltered as lightning seemed to flash inside his body. Mary heard John calling to her and she shouted back reassurances that they were okay without once taking her eyes off of the scene playing out in front of her.

As the demon fell to the floor, so did her son. Dean hit the floor with a thud and Mary ran forward. Sam had woken when the gun went off and was crying but she didn't have time to console him. While the baby was obviously scared, he was physically alright, which was more than could be said for her first born.

Mary dropped to her knees in front of the boy and gently rolled him over onto his back. Dean's eyes were clouded by pain but he managed a weak smile.

"You… did it, Mom. You changed… everything."

Mary had no clue as to what her son was talking about. But questions would have to wait. His pajama shirt was soaked through with blood and he was beginning to shake. The worried mother pulled up the article of clothing and saw a long, deep cut pumping out a ton of blood. He was going to need to get to the hospital. And Mary was certain that there was no way Dean would live long enough to get there alive.

"Oh God. Oh no. Dean, baby, hold on. I'll get you help." Tears streamed down her face as she heard the nursery door open behind her.

"What the hell? Mary what's… oh! Dean!"

And then John was besides her as she cradled her four year old son in her arms. She didn't even recall picking him up but now she was holding him close to her chest.

"Don't… cry, Mom." The child's voice was fading. "It's… actually better… than the… the way it… it could've ended."

"No. No, sweetie. Don't talk." It no longer mattered why Dean had been acting so strange before. All that mattered was that he was dying in her arms. "Just hang on, baby."

"I'll call an ambulance." John offered.

"It'll be faster if we drive him." Mary countered, getting ready to stand while still holding her injured son.

"Too late." Dean mumbled. "Love you…"

Then the boy's eyes closed.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Yeah, I totally realize that this cliffhanger means that I won't live to see 2013... oh, well. I guess my disembodied spirit will have to finish this story. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	4. Aftermath

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! I was going to post tomorrow but then I realized that that would give you guys an extra day to hunt me down and kill me for what I did to little Dean. So, out of a sense of self-preservation and because you guys are just so awesome, I am posting today (obviously)! But first I want to thank Araina Richardson, new21writer, snseriesfan, FireChildSlytherin5, Invader Kiwi, Stone120, elf, jokergirl94, BranchSuper, savannaharaiza5, PsychoPicasso, Shorty22133, and Eliza Ghost for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Four: Aftermath**

John Winchester knelt down next to his wife and reached his hand out to stroke though his son's hair. His dead son's hair. Because he was certain that the life had left Dean's body only moments before. And just how the hell had this happened?

He'd been woken by his son's screams and was ashamed to admit that he'd hesitated before getting up and out of his chair. He'd at first assumed that the boy had had a nightmare and comforting the child after a bad dream was more Mary's specialty than his own. But something about the boy's scream didn't seem right. It reminded him more of the cry of pain he'd heard from his fellow Marines when they were wounded than a child scared of a nightmare. And that thought is what finally got him moving. But too late it seemed. For when he'd gotten upstairs, the door to Sammy's room was slammed shut and locked and he heard a man's voice coming from inside. After banging on the door got him nowhere, John was about to call the cops but then Mary had told him not to. He figured that maybe the man inside the room had threatened to kill them if the police arrived, so he obeyed his wife's request. But that didn't mean he'd just stand around and hope that things turned out alright. No. He'd find a way into the room and save his family. But a gunshot ended all thoughts of rescue. He screamed to Mary and heard her yelling back that they were okay. And then the door had been unlocked. He wasn't sure how since his wife hadn't gone near it, but there was no time to ponder that as he took in the horrific scene in his youngest son's nursery. A man lay dead on the floor with a gunshot wound to the head. But the father barely glanced at him as his eyes found his first born son. Mary was cradling his tiny body in her arms as blood poured from an awful looking stomach wound. John was by their side in an instant. Dean was saying something about how it could've been worse and Mary was hushing him. John offered to call an ambulance but was shot down by his wife who wanted to drive the boy to the hospital. But then Dean had said that it was too late and told them that he loved them. When the boy's eyes closed, John thought he'd die as well. This just couldn't be happening.

"Dean, no buddy. C'mon, don't do this." And there were tears streaming down his face now. Yep, ex-Marine tough guy John Winchester was sobbing like a baby as he pleaded with his dead son to not be dead. "Please, Dean, come back to us."

"Oh baby, no." Mary cried over and over.

"Step aside. I will help him."

John's head whipped around to see a man wearing a tan trench coat standing over him. The man was staring at Dean's body with an expression of sadness but the mourning father still didn't trust the intruder. What were his intentions? And how did this man get in here without being heard? Although he supposed that was easy since he and Mary were calling out to their lost child as Sammy wailed away in his crib.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord and I can heal your son."

"No. No, I don't know who you are, but you stay away from my boy."

"John, Dean's dead." Mary cut him off. "This man can't do him any harm. And if he is an angel…"

"Mary, Dean's dead! There obviously are no angels looking out for him!" John couldn't believe what he was hearing. But he guessed that Mary was grasping at any small amount of hope that was being offered to her, no matter how ridiculous it seemed and that made him hate the man in the trench coat. Because Mary's heart would break all over again when Dean remained dead.

"I apologize that I couldn't come sooner. I'll explain everything later but for now I need to heal Dean."

"Okay." Mary agreed.

"No!" John insisted, but Castiel (if that was trench coat guy's real name) pushed past him and laid a hand on Dean's stomach.

John was about to pull the man away from his son when a light seemed to radiate out from where the guy's hand was. And then Dean began to convulse slightly. When the young boy's eyes snapped open, his father forgot all about the strange man in the trench coat.

"Dean? Buddy, can you hear me?" he reached forwards and once again stroked his son's hair.

"Dad?" He blinked slowly a few times and then his gaze focused on Mary. "Mom? What… oh!" What could only be described as recognition flashed through the boy's eyes and then he looked at the stranger. "Dude, Cas, 'bout time you showed."

John opened his mouth but no words could form. Dean didn't really sound like himself nor did he seem the least bit traumatized by his death and recovery. And he somehow knew Castiel.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't get involved in the fight against Azazel without attracting the attention of angels that may have tried to stop me. I also wasn't sure how much power it would take to accomplish all of this. I had feared that I would be unconscious for quite some time."

"What the hell are you going on about?" John interrupted. "Who are you?" He was trying desperately to wrap his head around what had happened in the last few minutes. How had this man healed John's dead son? Hell, he hadn't even figured out how Dean had been killed in the first place.

"I already told you…"

"Yeah, well, you can tell it to the cops when they get here." John stood to go get the phone but two voices stopped him.

"No!" Dean and Mary cried out at the same time.

"What? Why not?"

"John, this is all going to be hard to understand, but we cannot get the police involved."

"Mom's right. Please, Dad, don't call the cops. We can explain everything to you but the cops'll just get in the way and screw everything up."

John couldn't believe what he'd just heard come from his son's mouth. "Dean!"

The boy shrugged. Mary's hand shook slightly as she wiped the blood away from the child's belly. There was not a mark on him. Both parents stared in surprise. John knew he should've figured out that the wound would be gone since his son was alive, but seeing it was still a shock. All thoughts of calling out law enforcement disappeared from John's mind as he was forced to go back to thinking about what had occurred in this room. And man, did he not want to think about that. He wanted to take charge and pretend that things weren't spiraling out of his control. But there was just so much that defied rational explanation and it was overloading his brain. John needed to make sense of all of this. He just wasn't sure how to.

"Dad, get Sammy out of his crib and hand him to me. He's crying his head off." Dean sat up in his mother's arms.

John stared at his son in disbelief. His four year old had just given him an order. And since when had Dean called him 'Dad' instead of 'Daddy'?

"Dad! C'mon, he needs me."

"Dean, you can't…"

"Here."

John turned to see Castiel holding the baby, who was still crying.

"You! Put my son down!" John growled.

He was pissed when the trench coat wearing man completely ignored him. Instead, the man walked around Mary and crouched down in front of her and Dean. Dean reached his skinny arms out and took the infant from Castiel. The boy held his little brother close.

"You're okay, Sammy. Everything's gonna be okay now. You're safe and I'll keep you safe."

Baby Sammy reached up and grabbed onto Dean's face as his sobs slowly died down to hiccups.

"Dean, we need to discuss what happens next." Castiel announced.

"You talk to me, not the child." John insisted.

"Just wait 'til Sammy's asleep, Cas. Then we'll talk." Dean answered as though John hadn't spoken.

"I would like to know what's going on with you." Mary directed her statement to Dean.

"Look, I told you I'd explain everything but I really want to get Sammy back to sleep."

"Have you all lost your minds?" John just about shouted. "We have a dead body in the room, a stranger claiming to be an angel, Dean almost died, and you all just want to sit around and talk things out?!"

"Quiet, Dad!" Dean hissed. "You're scaring Sammy."

And sure enough, the baby was starting to cry again.

"You don't tell me what to do, Dean. What the hell is up with you?"

"Please calm down." Castiel requested.

"And _you_ definitely don't tell me what to do!"

"John, please, you're not helping the situation." Mary spoke up.

And that was the last straw. The world had gone insane and while John was trying to make sense of everything, he was being shut down by everyone from his wife, to his four year old son, to the goddamn stranger who'd somehow gotten into his house. He half expected the dead guy on the floor to start arguing with him as well.

"Well you know what will help the situation? Me calling the cops."

"No." Mary and Dean protested yet again.

"We have a corpse in our house. We have to report it."

"We can't explain it to them."

John turned to his wife. "It was self-defense, Mary. They'll understand."

"No, they'll take the colt. We can't let them take it." Dean insisted.

"And where did you get the gun, Mary?" John asked, his son's statement reminding him of that question.

"You'll have to ask Dean."

"I sent it to him." Castiel admitted.

"What?!"

Sammy started crying again.

"Everyone shut the hell up!" Dean cried out. "You're upsetting him." Then he turned his attention back to the baby in his arms and lowered his voice. "Shhhh, it'll be okay, Sammy. Shhhhh. I'll take care of you."

John grabbed fistful of Castiel's trench coat. "You gave my son a gun?"

"It was needed for him to protect this family."

"_I_ protect this family. Not a little kid."

"You failed the first time around. That is why it became Dean's job."

"First time around? What the hell are you talking about? I never failed my family, you crackpot. I don't know who you are, but the cops'll have to deal with you. And don't anyone disagree with me this time. I'm calling them. If the neighbors haven't already."

"I made sure no one heard the gunshots." Castiel informed him.

John ignored him and went to leave the room to get the phone. Mary still sat on the floor with Dean in her lap and neither made a move to get up, but Castiel quickly blocked his way.

"You can't do that."

"Move, or I'll move you." John threatened. He was an ex-Marine and could take out this idiot without breaking a sweat. The man may have somehow healed his son, but he had admitted to giving the boy a weapon and was quite possibly insane, so if he had to be dealt with, John would do it without a second thought.

"No. Please calm down or I will have to make you calm down."

"I'd like to see you try." John laughed.

"Don't hurt him, Cas."

"I won't, Dean. But he is past the point of reason."

John grabbed the man by the shoulders and was about to shove him out of the way, when Castiel reached a hand up and lightly touched his forehead. Everything went dark.

_**Author's Note Part Two: ** Poor John... oh, well. I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	5. My Dean

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying the ride so far. And lots of thanks to new21writer, guest, Araina Richardson, reannablue, snseriesfan, Stone120, Invader Kiwi, sarah, PsychoPicasso, savannaharaiza5, KnightJelly, BranchSuper, FireChildSlytherine5, giraffethellama, NewbieOnTheBlock, elf, RoseDragon666, Hasmik Aharonyan, and Eliza Ghost for their awesome reviews. You guys are the best!_

**Chapter Five: My Dean**

"John!" Mary cried out as her husband fell to the ground. She wanted to run to him but Dean was still in her lap and after holding his dead body just minutes ago, she wasn't ready to let go of her miraculously revived son. "What did you do to him?"

"He's fine, Mom. Cas just put him to sleep." Then the boy turned to Castiel. "Dude, you could've caught him."

The man (angel?) looked down at John. "Yes, I could've. But I didn't think of it."

Dean shook his head, an amused expression on his childish face.

Mary looked down to see that Sammy was fast asleep once again. "Dean, let's get Sammy back in his crib and then we need to talk."

The boy nodded his head and stood up, still clutching the baby tightly to his chest. Mary got to her feet and took the infant from her son's arms and laid him in the crib. Then she walked over and knelt down next to her husband. She hadn't been too worried since she doubted that Dean would've been so calm if John was hurt. A quick check showed him to be fine.

"Can you get him to bed?" She asked Castiel.

He nodded and reached down to touch the sleeping man. John disappeared.

"He is resting in your bed and will probably remain asleep until around noon time tomorrow. He will awake refreshed and hopefully calmer."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. He's gonna wake up pissed."

Mary couldn't help but silently agree with her son even as she was startled yet again by his language. This was not the Dean that she was used to.

"I'll take care of the body." Castiel offered gesturing to the dead man who'd been possessed.

"Thanks, Cas."

Mary felt that she should say something as well, but she was struggling a bit with all that had just happened. A demon (the one she'd made a deal with) had come for her six month old, had killed her oldest son, and then she had killed the demon (something she'd once considered impossible), and then an angel had brought her son back to life. All of this in the space of only a few minutes. It was no wonder that her husband had lost it. And speaking of which, John was now going to know about all the stuff she'd always wanted to protect him and her children from. Of course, one of her kids seemed to know more about all of this than she did, and it was time to find out how.

"While he takes care of that, you and I are going to go downstairs to talk." Mary ordered.

Dean bit his lower lip and seemed a bit nervous but he nodded. Mary picked him up and held him in her arms as she walked out of the nursery. She was a little reluctant to leave her youngest son unguarded, but it seemed that the threat was over and she didn't want to disturb Sammy's sleep with their talking. Dean rested his head on her shoulder and clung to her tightly. She wondered if the weight of what had just happened was setting in on the boy because his grip was strong, as if he didn't ever want to let go.

When Mary entered the living room, she sat down on the couch and settled Dean on her lap. Part of her wanted to be more stern with the child and sit him opposite of her to try and stare him down but the memory of his death prevented her from doing so. Still, she wasn't going to let anything stop her from getting answers.

"What's going on, Dean?"

"I don't even know how to begin." He shifted so that he was looking up at her. There was something in his eyes that Mary found unnerving. A sadness and unimaginable pain that a four year old should not know. "I… I'm from the future. Sort of…"

Mary wanted to laugh at that if only the boy didn't look so serious. "What are you talking about?"

"Please just hear me out, Mom." He took a deep breath before continuing. "You were supposed to die tonight after Sammy was infected with demon blood. And Dad, he saw you killed by the demon. He wanted revenge so he learned all that he could about the supernatural and became a hunter. And he took Sammy and me with him. We were raised on the road, jumping from one crappy motel to another. I was left in charge of protecting Sammy and was trained to be a hunter like Dad. Eventually Sammy found out the truth and joined the family business too. And it went on like that for years. But eventually Dad found the demon that killed you, Azazel. And the demon claimed his life too. I killed the son of a bitch the following year. Then a bunch of other crap happened until the whole world was ending. At that point, Cas told me that he could send me back in time to save you and stop that whole piss poor future from happening but he neglected to mention that my consciousness would be in my four year old body. And that's about it."

Mary stared at him, begging him to just grin and tell her that it was all a joke. But she knew that he was telling the truth. A mother always knows when her child is lying. But still…

"No. No, that's impossible."

"He's telling the truth."

Mary turned her head to see Castiel standing only a few feet away. "But how…"

"There are several reasons that I could not bring Dean back here to change the future in his adult body. This was the way that it had to be."

Mary stared down at the child on her lap, trying to get it through her head that he wasn't actually a child. He looked like her Dean. Except of course for the eyes. Her son should not have that look in his eyes.

"Well, that future's been changed now, right?" Mary questioned.

"Yes." Castiel confirmed.

"Then why is Dean still like this?"

"Because it is who he is."

"No. Dean is an innocent little boy."

"Mom…" Dean tried to join in.

Mary shook her head as she stood up, the person who looked like her son falling from her lap onto the couch.

"No. I want my son back." She demanded.

"I _am_ your son." His voice was pleading.

"No." Mary shook her head again. She just wanted her innocent little boy back. Not this boy who was actually a man and looked like he'd survived several wars and not always come out on top. Her son should never have to live through any of that.

"Mom, please." Now the boy was sounding desperate and tears were coming to his large green eyes.

Mary found that she could look into those eyes no longer without losing her sanity. "No, my son is an innocent little boy." She repeated. "This… this can't be…" She turned away from the couch to face Castiel. "Bring my son back. I want my Dean back."

"Mom, _I'm_ your Dean." And the tiny little voice was far too broken to belong to a child of only four years.

Mary couldn't even face him. "No, you're not. You can't be." _Because I never wanted my Dean to know this kind of pain._ She added in her head but could not say out loud because her voice just got stuck in her throat with all the emotion.

Mary heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Dean running up the stairs, small face buried in his hands. Great. She'd caused even more pain to her baby. But she couldn't find it in her to follow him. She didn't want to see any more of the broken person that her son had become. She felt that it would break her as well.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean ran into his bedroom, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to overtake him. He pulled his hands away from his damp face long enough to close the door behind himself, then hurled his tiny body onto the bed. The boy curled in on himself and felt his body shaking with emotion. Dean knew that his much younger body didn't have the ability to hold back the tears like he was used to doing. For some reason he was now forced to deal with the emotions of a small child. And he just couldn't do it. Hell, he'd never been all that good with dealing with emotions before, preferring to bury them and ignore them, but now it was so much worse, all the feelings he'd always suppressed being magnified by his pre-school aged brain. And man, did it suck.

The words played over and over in his head. _I want my Dean back._ 'Mom, I'm your Dean.' _No you're not._

She'd rejected him. His own mother had rejected him. Growing up, Dean had been abandoned by his father more times than he could count and had never gotten the man's approval. And then Sam had gotten older, seen him for the disappointment he was and had left him too. The only family member who'd never cast him out or run away from him had been his mom. But as it turned out, that was probably just because she'd died before she had been forced to see the person he'd grown up to become. And now, only moments after meeting him, she'd rejected him.

_I want my son back._

Was he really that much of a failure that his mom couldn't even stand to call him her son? Well, yeah, he probably was. After all, here he was, curled up on his bed crying like a freakin' baby. He needed to get a grip. He was Dean Winchester, and Dean Winchester did not cry. But he _was_ crying and he just couldn't stop. He'd gotten his mother back only to have her abandon him just like everyone always did. And she didn't even know his whole pathetic story. If she did, she'd probably chase him from the house and lock the door behind him. Which brought to mind another worry. What would happen if she did make him leave? He'd be alone. No. She wouldn't do that, would she?

_I want my Dean back._

It was obvious that she didn't want him. And Dad never wanted him before so why would he want him now? And Sammy would have both parents and certainly wouldn't need a broken older brother. So yeah, he was destined to be abandoned and forgotten. But at least the rest of his family would have a chance at a good life. And that should be all that mattered. But Dean couldn't help but feel sorry for himself that he couldn't be a part of that. That he'd been rejected yet again.

_I want my Dean back._ 'Mom, I'm your Dean.' _No you're not. _

With the words still playing over and over in his head, drowning out the victory he'd felt earlier with the death of Azazel, Dean pulled his blanket up and over his suddenly chilly body. The distraught boy closed his eyes and cried himself into an uneasy sleep.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed. I know there's not much action right now, but more will be coming. And I'm sorry if the chapter depressed the crap outta anyone. Oh well. Just remember, each review is like a comforting hug to little Dean, so please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Dean and I thank you._


	6. Answers You May Not Want

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone, I'm back early with a new chapter. Sorry yet again for depressing the crap outta you guys in that last chapter, but you all seemed to enjoy it anyways. I want to thank Stone120, knightjelly, new21writer, Invader Kiwi, sarah, snseriesfan, dianaj2w, Geu23, hiphopmum, CoolBeena, FireChildSlytherin5, Wunjo, RoseDragon666, elf, Hasmik Aharonyan, Eliza Ghost, BranchSuper, and roy23 for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Six: Answers You May Not Want**

Castiel watched Dean flee from the room and was torn on what to do. He wanted to go after his friend and try to comfort him. The angel knew that Dean was suffering from the emotions that his much younger brain chemistry and hormones would be causing and that he would need help to deal with all of this. Especially after the confrontation the boy had just had with his mother. But he wasn't certain that Dean would accept any support at the moment. Besides, Mary Winchester looked like she could use some advice right about now. This had been a lot to dump on the woman all at once. Perhaps once she was able to deal with everything, she would get along with Dean better. And that would definitely help Castiel's friend. Decision made, the angel stepped closer to the distraught mother that had once again sat down on the couch.

"Dean_ is_ your son. I know that this is all difficult to accept, but he grew up to be a good man. A person you should be proud of."

Mary looked up at him. "That's not even the point. He shouldn't _be_ a man. He should be a kid. You shouldn't have given him the memories of an adult. That's not fair." She had gone from being sad to angry and her anger was definitely being directed at him.

Castiel tipped his head to the side. "I understand now. You think I forced adult memories onto your four year old son. That isn't what happened. I took your son's soul from the future and brought him back here."

"What's the difference? My baby still loses his childhood."

"No, he doesn't. He had his childhood and grew up. The Dean you know was not destroyed, but lived thirty more years. When given the opportunity to come back to this night and prevent your death, he agreed. But I can't take those years away from him and let him have the second childhood we both think he deserves."

"Why not?"

"Because if I did, the future would end up even darker than it was. There are people that your husband and sons saved that still need to be saved. Events that still need to take place."

"Someone else can do it." Mary insisted.

"If it were that easy, I myself would take that burden from your son." Castiel hung his head, not wanting to see the look of disappointment on the woman's face. He himself wished that there had been another way, but this was the only option. "But it has to be him. Also, both demons and angels have plans for your family that Dean has derailed tonight. Unfortunately, they will not be ready to give up this easily and may even seek revenge. Dean wouldn't live long without his knowledge and experience. This will not be easy on him, but at least this time around he will have support."

"Support? What do you mean? Didn't he have support before?"

"No. With you dead and your husband obsessed with hunting, Dean was left alone to raise himself and his brother. I trust that that won't be the case this time." Castiel knew that it came out as an order with a hint of a threat, but he wanted to make certain that Dean would be treated well. He didn't blame Mary for her initial reaction to Dean's unique situation, but he wouldn't stand for her to continue to shun the child. Dean deserved better.

"But, he already grew up like that. I wish he hadn't had to, but what can I do about it now?"

Castiel tried to think of a way to explain the situation to her. "I'm certain you saw his emotional reaction to the night's events." When she nodded, he continued. "Before I brought him back here, Dean would not have reacted that way. He would have been upset, but would've hidden his feelings from everyone, just as he always has. But now, he may have all of his adult memories, but in some ways he is a four year old child. The emotions he faces are not that of his adult self. He will deny it and attempt to act like a grown-up, but he will need you more than ever."

"Me?"

"Dean missed you greatly over the years. Having you back in his life will make him very pleased."

Castiel could see that Mary was thinking everything over. He knew that while she was upset over the loss of the four year old version of her son, she still loved Dean and would want what was best for him. He only hoped that it was possible for his friend to find a little bit of peace and happiness now. But a lot of that would hinge on Mary's treatment of her son. Castiel prayed for the best as he waited for her response.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Mary tried to comprehend everything that Castiel had just told her. She wasn't sure exactly how to feel about all of it.

She'd felt sad that she'd lost her Dean, but the boy that had run upstairs _was_ her Dean. She guessed it was kind of like those parents who'd had their kids taken from them only to get them back years later. But no time had passed for her, so it was strange to think that thirty years had passed for her son. And it didn't help that he looked just like he had when he'd gone to bed that night.

She'd felt angry at Castiel for giving her son all the memories of an adult at such a young age, but he'd explained that it wasn't really like that. While Mary was still trying to completely understand what had happened with Dean, she now believed that this angel wouldn't have actually done anything hurtful to him as he seemed to actually care about Dean.

She'd felt scared since her family had been attacked by a demon and Castiel was suggesting that it was far from over, but then again, they'd all survived tonight. And it seemed that they really did have an angel watching over them.

So she settled for feeling confused. Because she didn't think there was anything in the world that would take away all the questions that were running through her mind. But maybe Castiel could at least try.

"Why Dean? Why does he have to do all this?"

"Because he is supposed to. I once told your son that destiny can't be changed, and I was correct to a point. I've since discovered that it's possible to alter some events and outcomes but others must remain the same. And Dean was meant to hunt. He was meant to save this world."

Mary stared at him. "The world? That's quite a bit to put on his shoulders."

"It is." Castiel admitted. "But we can help him bear the load."

Mary tried to comprehend that her baby boy, who was not so young as he looked anymore, was charged with saving the world. And here she'd been hoping to give her children an easier life than she'd had.

"Are you going to stay with him?"

Castiel seemed to consider her question. "I had considered going back to my own time, in which case I myself would cease to exist since the events that formed me into who I am will be changed, but I now feel that it would be best for Dean if I stayed."

"Of course it would!" Mary exclaimed. "You're the only one who really knows him." And boy did it hurt to admit that a stranger knew her son better than she did. Even if that stranger was an angel of the Lord. "He's going to need you."

"Then I will be there for him."

Mary stared into the angel's eyes. She was beginning to like this guy. He obviously cared about Dean and if Mary hadn't been able to be there for her son as he grew up, at least someone had. But then again, Castiel had said that Dean had been alone for most of his life.

"How long have you known Dean? When did you meet him?"

And now Castiel looked uncomfortable. He had some information that he didn't seem to want to share.

"I met your son a few years ago."

Well, that was short and non-informative. And now Mary knew that he was hiding something. After all the upsetting information he'd readily gave out, the truth on how he'd met Dean must be pretty bad if he chose now to clam up.

"What happened to him?" Mary demanded. "You've already told me that he had to raise himself and Sam. He was forced into a hunter's lifestyle at a young age and he admitted that 'a bunch of crap' happened to him. But what was it that happened a few years ago that warranted an angel to show up?"

Castiel shifted from foot to foot, before looking her in the eye. "I pulled Dean out from Hell."

Mary stared at him for a moment. "Hell? You… you mean like a bad situation, right?"

"No. I mean Hell. The actual place. His soul had been sent to Hell and he'd been tortured. I was charged with pulling him from the pit. I gripped him tight and delivered his soul back to his body."

Mary was glad she was sitting down because she felt incredibly weak. Hell. Her baby had been to Hell. A place of eternal torment and her precious little son had been there. No. That was just… no.

"But… how? Why? You… you said… you told me that Dean had grown to be a good man. If that's true, what was he doing in Hell?"

"Dean sold his soul to bring Sam back from the dead after one of Azazel's intended soldiers killed him. He was given a year and when his time was up, Dean was dragged into the pit."

"And you let that happen?"

"I did not know him at the time. He was not mine to look out for then."

"Then who was looking out for my son, huh? I told him angels watched over him and then all of you were just sitting back relaxing in heaven as my baby was forced to sell his soul and then was condemned to Hell!" Then a memory hit her on what happened to those whose time was up. "Oh! Oh, God, no. Please tell me the hellhounds didn't come for him." Castiel's silence was enough of an answer. Tears ran down Mary's face as she tried to comprehend all of what her son had had to go through. "No. Oh, God. Please no. Not Dean. I can't… I just can't believe he had to… How long? How long was he down there before you rescued him?"

"It was four months up here, but many years there. I am sorry it took so long for me to get to him. Raiding Hell is not easy, not even for an angel."

"How bad was it for him?" Mary's voice came out as just a whisper as she asked the question that she didn't really want an answer for.

"Bad. But your son is strong. The strongest human I've ever met. He's survived."

"He shouldn't have had to."

"No, he shouldn't have."

Mary sat in silence for a while, trying to digest information that she wished she'd never received. She had always pictured Dean growing up in a loving family, excelling at school (because already he was proving to be a smart, creative child), getting a good job, meeting and marrying the girl of his dreams, having a family of his own, and just being happy. But no. He'd grown up with no support, learned how to kill evil creatures when he should've been learning typical grade school lessons, become a full-time hunter, and then ended up being ripped apart by hellhounds and tortured in Hell. This was the furthest thing from what she'd wanted for her son.

"What… what's he like?"

"Dean is brave, loyal, and very strong-willed. He is a skilled hunter and does not back down. He can also be very compassionate. He has an odd sense of humor and hides his feelings behind a carefree attitude."

"And is there any happiness in his life?"

"He is pleased when he successfully completes a hunt."

"No, I mean, is he ever really happy?"

"Well, driving the Impala brings him joy. And he is happy when he can make Sam happy. He likes greasy food and pie. Oh, and he seems to enjoy it when he indulges in alcohol and women."

Mary put up her hand to cut him off. "I don't need to hear that."

Castiel looked confused. "But you asked…"

"Yes and no mother ever needs to hear about certain things that her son does once he's grown."

The angel nodded even though he still seemed confused.

But his response had saddened Mary further. Not only had Dean had to endure terrible things, but it seemed that there were very few bright spots in his life. And then guilt crashed down on her as she realized that she'd added to his list of hurts when she'd told him that he wasn't her son. Yes, she did still wish he was her innocent little four year old. But Dean was still her son, no matter what life may have put him through.

Mary had just resolved to go upstairs and try to patch things up between herself and her first born son, when Dean's terrified scream pierced the quiet of the night.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Return of the cliffhangers! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	7. Waking Up From Hell

_**Author's Note: **3rd update this week! I am awesome! I've gotten some inquiries as to where I'm going with this story and I must warn you all that if you're reading this you are in for a long and wild ride. I fully intend to take this through Dean's childhood, eventually making it to the series. But I will not be fastforwarding to there anytime soon as there is way more adventure, danger, angst, and humor left to tell about all the years in the Winchesters' lives. Now I would like to thank Stone120, roy23, new21writer, Invader Kiwi, FireChildSlytherin5, Mirikili68, snseriesfan, Wunjo, X5EgSparks, RoseDragon666, savannaharaiza5, jokergirl94, sarah, BranchSuper, murphy9202, Julefor, kasey123, elf, and Araina Richardson for their wonderful reviews. And now, on with the show..._

**Chapter Seven: Waking Up From Hell**

Dean gritted his teeth against the intense pain that was shooting through his body. He was suspended far above… well, he wasn't sure what exactly was beneath him but it couldn't possibly be good… by chains. And the chains were connected to him by large hooks that dug into his flesh. Any movement on his part made them tear his skin and muscle even more, but it was impossible to stay completely still. Besides, the weight of his body was pulling him downward against the metal that pierced his skin, causing him extreme agony. And it was hot. So dreadfully hot that sweat poured down off of him. His throat was raw from screaming for help that he knew would never come. He wished that it would all just be over, but he knew that that would never happen. And he couldn't even pray for death to end his suffering since he was already dead. Dead and in Hell. His eternal torment had just begun and he'd already had more than enough.

Suddenly he felt the chains begin to move. They were pulling out and away from him, but the hooks were still inside of him. Dean let out a strangled moan as he felt the cold metal stretch out his skin as far as it could go. And then he once more found his voice to scream in agony as his flesh ripped open and he fell.

But he didn't have far to fall. Dean landed on a spider-web of chains that had been a few dozen feet below him. He shook from the pain and let out small pathetic noises as he tried to move himself. Blood streamed down from a huge gash in his shoulder and the gaping wound in his side. The other tears in his skin and muscles weren't quite as bad. Dean got to his knees and tried to figure out where to go from there. But before he could come up with some sort of plan, more hooks connected to chains shot out of nowhere and embedded themselves in him. Seconds later, he was right back where he started.

Dean tried to cry out in pain, but nothing except for blood came out of his mouth. This time, one of the hooks had pierced his throat. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to find a position where maybe it wouldn't hurt quite so much. But there wasn't even a small amount of relief to be had.

The hunter had no clue how long he hung suspended like that before he felt the chains pulling once again. This time, he didn't make any sound as the hooks tore his flesh apart. Dean fell once more into another mass of chains.

The severely injured young man didn't wait for more hooks to dig into him this time. He rolled off the chains and fell again. And again. Dean figured that if he kept moving, maybe he'd be able to outrun the torture that was intended for him. Maybe he'd find a moment of relief. But then he freed himself from a web of chains to find himself in a freefall.

The drop took forever and the impact was horrendous. Dean felt all his bones break and his insides getting crushed. But still, he was conscious when he caught fire and the tattered remains of his skin began to burn. He couldn't move or even scream as his flesh blackened and peeled away. His internal organs cooked and the agony was beyond anything he'd ever imagined. Even knowing that he couldn't make a sound, Dean opened his mouth to cry out in terror and pain.

"Ahhhhhh!" Dean didn't even realize that he was audibly screaming. He just wanted to escape the pain. But he was sure that he'd never be able to, so he kept on screaming. Then arms circled around him and he felt another stab of fear go through him as he wondered who'd grabbed him and what they were going to do to him next. "No! Stop! Please let me go. Please." He knew he was begging and pleading but he couldn't help it. Everything was just too much for him. He expected his captor to laugh or mock him. He didn't expect to hear a calming, soothing voice telling him everything was okay, but that was exactly what was reaching his ears.

"Dean, sweetie, wake up. You're okay. No one's going to hurt you, baby. You're safe. It's okay, Dean. Everything's okay now. You're safe, baby."

Dean opened his eyes to find himself not in Hell but in something damned close to his idea of Heaven. His mother was holding him close to her, rubbing his back, and rocking him gently as she spoke reassurances over and over. He felt safe and loved. Dean reached tiny arms up to wrap around his mother as tears ran from his eyes.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Mary had run into her son's bedroom expecting to see some demon trying to once more kill Dean. Instead, she saw her son tangled up in his blankets, thrashing around and making small noises of distress. She ran to him immediately and sat down on the bed.

"Dean, sweetie, wake up."

Instead of waking, the boy curled in on himself and began moaning and sobbing in his sleep. The sounds he was making reminded Mary of a hunt that she'd gone on long ago with her father. They had been hunting a werewolf and had tracked it down moments too late to save the beast's newest victim. The young man lay there making the most pathetic and agonized sounds she'd ever heard and it was a relief when he finally died. And the noises her son was making were pretty much identical.

"Dean?"

And then he let out another scream that was filled with pain and fear. Mary scooped the boy up and out of the covers, pulling him tight to her chest. He started to struggle to get away and began to beg and plead with her to let him go. But, suspecting that he wasn't really aware that it was his mother that was holding him, Mary held him even tighter and began to rub soothing circles on his back.

"Dean, sweetie, wake up. You're okay. No one's going to hurt you, baby. You're safe. It's okay, Dean. Everything's okay now. You're safe, baby." Mary tried to comfort the distressed child as she began to gently rock him like she would when he was a baby.

Dean's eyes opened and he stopped fighting her and threw his arms around her, crying into her chest, his small body shaking violently.

Mary continued to soothe the distraught boy as she looked up and shot a questioning glance to Castiel, who had followed her upstairs. She was wondering if this was a result of the night's events or something more. The angel was looking at Dean with such sorrow that Mary realized that Dean was dreaming of something far worse than his encounter with the demon.

She ran a hand through her son's hair as she felt his trembling start to slow.

"Hey, baby. What happened?"

The boy shrugged. "Bad dream."

"You want to tell me about it?"

"Nah, that's okay. I'll be fine." But his reassurances would've sounded more sincere if he wasn't still crying a little bit.

"Dean, you know that you can tell me, right?"

"It's nothing." The child pulled away and crawled back onto the mattress. Mary noticed for the first time that he was still wearing his bloody pajamas.

"We should get you cleaned up a bit."

Dean looked down at himself, surprise registering on his face as he realized that he was covered in his own dried blood.

"Yeah… I'll go get washed up."

"I'll get the water ready for you after I get some clean pajamas out." Mary offered, standing to walk to his dresser.

"I got it." Dean stated.

"Dean, let me help."

"Just stop!" The boy looked like he was going to burst into tears again.

"Stop what?" Mary asked, thinking that he was probably going to get mad that she was treating him like a child. Castiel had warned her that he would try to act like he was still his normal self.

"Stop pretending that you care! I don't know why you're doing it, but stop."

"Dean. I'm not pretending. I'm your mother, I love you, so of course I care!"

"But… no. You said that I'm not your son. You don't want me, so don't you dare say that you actually care."

Now Mary had tears running from her eyes. "Oh baby, no. I didn't mean that. Not like you think I did. I just… it hurt to think that my son had to live through all you've lived through. I still want you. And I'll always love you."

Dean was looking at her with a hopeful yet cautious expression. "You… you're not disappointed in me?"

Mary walked over and picked him up once again. "Never."

After a moment, she felt Dean hug her back. She squeezed him tightly before placing him back down on the bed. He gave her a small smile. She could tell that he was still a bit unsure but knew that in time her actions would be able to convince him that she hadn't been trying to reject him earlier.

"So, why don't I go get things ready?"

"Okay, Mom." Dean agreed.

Mary turned to Castiel who had remained silent the whole time. "You'll keep an eye on him until I come back?"

"Of course."

"Dude, I'm right here." Dean interrupted, obviously annoyed that he was being talked about while he was within earshot.

"I'll be right back." Mary promised as she left the room.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean watched his mom walk out of his bedroom. He wasn't sure what to believe or how to feel. He desperately wanted what she'd just told him to be the truth but it was hard to believe that she really wanted him. In Dean's experience, he was only really needed when it came to hunting and after his usefulness was over, he'd be abandoned. But she said she'd always want him. Always love him. So maybe that meant that she'd never leave him. Maybe…

Dean turned to Cas, a little embarrassed that the angel had seen him sobbing like a baby. "Dude, what the hell is going on? I just had the absolute worst Hell flashback I've ever had. I mean seriously disturbing crap. It wasn't even this bad right after you pulled my ass out of the pit."

"I believe it is a side effect of your new age. A child's mind is not equipped to handle the memories that you possess."

"So, what? They're just gonna keep coming?"

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, you're not sure? You're the one who did this to me."

"Yes, and it is the first time I've ever done something like this. I don't know much more than you do."

"Awesome." Dean commented sarcastically. Inside, he was terrified of the idea that he'd have any more flashback dreams as vivid as the one he'd just woken from.

The tiny hunter jumped off his bed and walked over to his desk. He grabbed the chair and dragged it over to his dresser. Then he stood up on it and pulled open the top drawer. Dean pulled out a pair of blue pajamas with red fire trucks on them. Not really his style anymore but they were better than the red plaid ones that had faded to an almost pink color. Clothing in hand, he closed the drawer and hopped off the chair.

"I could've gotten that for you." Cas informed him.

"Well, make yourself useful and put the chair back." Dean responded with a smile.

Cas did as asked, although Dean hadn't actually been serious about his request. He knew that his new size meant that he'd need help with many things he was used to doing by himself. But he'd be damned (again) if he was going to let everything be done for him. Even if part of him thought that it was actually nice to be cared for for a change.

Without glancing back, Dean headed out of his room and towards the bathroom to get cleaned up. And maybe wash away the horrors that the nightmare had left behind.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed... if reading about Hell memories can be considered enjoyment... Oh, well. Please take just a moment and leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	8. Between Relaxation and Anxiety

_**Author's Note: **Hi Everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful weekend. I want to thank BulletsCoffeeFaith, Stone120, new21writer, roy23, Julefor, FireChildSlytherin5, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Alienmom, guest, savannaharaiza5, Wunjo, BranchSuper, guest, dianaj2w, Eliza Ghost, Aislynnrose2010, shorty22133, PsychoPicasso, and elf for their awesome reviews. And of course Hasmik Aharonyan for the review via pm. You guys are the best audience I could ever want. And because I love you all so much, here's another chapter!_

**Chapter Eight: Between Relaxation and Anxiety**

Dean walked into the upstairs bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks. His mom was crouched down by the bathtub, her hand held under the running water to check the temperature, even though the tub was already almost full. Full of water and bubbles.

"Really, Mom? A bubble bath?" Dean asked with an amused tone.

She turned to look at him with an embarrassed expression. "I'm sorry. I forgot that you're not exactly a kid. I just… you always love it when there are a lot of bubbles and I wanted to… I'm sorry."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, Mom. It's cool."

It had been a very long time since Dean had indulged in a bubble bath. Crappy motel bathrooms come equipped with dirty shower stalls that have terrible water pressure, not comfy bathtubs in which one could take a warm soaking bath. He'd been taking showers since he was four years old and struggling to find ways to bathe baby Sammy without access to a tub (mostly using kitchenette sinks). Not that he'd ever admit it, but he was looking forwards to this bubble bath and was grateful to his mother for preparing it for him.

As his mom turned the water off, Dean began to unbutton his pajama shirt. He pulled the bloodstained clothing off of his little torso and dropped it to the floor. His mother got up and laid one towel on the floor in front of the tub, and then placed a folded one on the counter near the sink for Dean to use when his bath was over. After that was done, she turned to face him. A moment passed as they both stood watching the other.

"Uh, Mom… you can go now."

"No, I can't, Dean." She replied.

"Dude, I'm not stripping in front of you."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before. And I'm not leaving you in the tub alone. You could drown."

"As you just pointed out, I'm not a kid." Dean shot back.

"But you are the size of one and haven't slept much tonight. If you accidentally fall asleep in the tub, you'll drown. Besides, the walls of the tub are too high for you to be able to get in on your own."

"I'll use the step stool." Dean insisted, pointing at the blue and gray plastic step in front of the sink.

"And then fall in and crack your head open. I don't want Castiel to have to revive you again tonight."

Dean knew that she was right but it was difficult to accept that he was going to need help with something as simple as bathing.

"Fine." He conceded, and then pointed at her, a serious look on his childish face. "But don't look."

His mom tried to hide her smile. "Got it." Then she turned away from him.

Dean pulled off the pajama pants and the blue and white striped underwear. He looked at the clothing, still in shock at the very idea that stuff that small could possibly fit him. He walked over to the tub and looked in. His mom had been right. There was no way for him to safely climb in by himself.

"Okay, I'm ready."

His mother turned back and picked him up, obviously trying to avert her eyes as much as possible to help preserve what little was left of his dignity. And Dean loved her even more for it.

Once he was settled in the tub, small body covered by warm water and soap bubbles, he closed his eyes and let out a content sigh. This was awesome.

After a moment, he opened his eyes again and he saw his mom sitting on the closed toilet seat looking at him with a small smile on her face. Dean glanced down at himself and, seeing that his naked body was not visible past the pile of bubbles, decided not to take issue with the fact that he was being watched in the bathtub.

"I see you still enjoy bubble baths."

"It's nice." He admitted. Dean slid under the water to get his hair wet and then resurfaced. His small hand grabbed the shampoo bottle, flipped the top open, and poured a small amount into his other hand. He lathered it up and then covered his shaggy hair with it. After a few trips back underwater to rinse, the boy snatched up the washcloth and cleaned himself off, careful to remain concealed beneath the bubbles as he did so. When he was done, he leaned back and relaxed. "I can get used to this."

"I'm glad."

Dean looked back to his mother and discovered that she looked a bit sad. Fear stabbed his heart as he wondered if she was getting upset over him again, if she would reject him again. With a shaky voice (damned little kid emotions) he questioned her. "What's wrong, Mom?"

"Nothing. It's just… it's nice to see you happy. After everything you've been through, you deserve a little relaxation."

"Wasn't so bad." Dean shrugged. "And we ganked the son of a bitch, so alls well that ends well and all that crap, right?"

His mom blinked at him for a moment and then shook her head. "I just wish you hadn't had to die like that tonight. It must've been horrible. And I wasn't just talking about this night. I meant the way you grew up, and the hunting, and…and you know, all the time you had to spend in Hell."

Dean had been poking at some of the larger bubbles with his finger, but at that statement his head shot back up. "What? Hell? Why would you… how did you…"

"Castiel told me that you sold your soul to save Sam. He said that you spent a very long time in Hell."

Dean felt caught somewhere in between panic and anger. And he was so sick of being scared that he settled for being angry.

"Dammit, Cas!" He all but shouted.

"What's wrong Dean?"

Dean turned his head to see the angel now standing next to the tub. The boy felt his face heat up with embarrassment.

"Dude, what the hell? I'm in the freakin' bathtub, Cas! You can't be here!"

"But you called for me."

"No, I shouted your name out because I was pissed at you. It was not an invitation to drop by."

"Oh. Well, now that I'm here, perhaps you could tell me what the problem is."

"The 'problem' is that you told my mom that I went to Hell! Why would you do that?"

"She asked how we met."

"And you had to tell her the truth?"

"I don't lie well."

"No? Really? I would never have guessed."

"Dean, he was right to tell me." Mary interrupted.

"No, he wasn't. Because you shouldn't have to know that."

"I want to know everything about your life, Dean. I apparently missed thirty years of it and I just want to know who my baby boy grew up to be."

And that was the problem right there. Because if she found out about him, she'd leave him for sure. But he couldn't say that. "Yeah, well… careful what you wish for. 'Cause I guarantee that you won't want to know everything."

"Let me decide that."

Dean shrugged. He wanted to yell at Cas some more, but it was pointless. The damage was done now. So instead, the whole room descended into silence. After a couple of minutes, Cas broke the quiet.

"I think you used too much soap, Dean. There seems to be an overabundance of bubbles in your bathwater."

"Out!" Dean yelled, pointing at the door.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean felt sleepier than ever as his mom carried him back to his room. Normally he'd protest at even the thought of being carried, but this wasn't a normal situation. And besides, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of his mother holding him. Once he'd toweled off and gotten dressed, his mom had gone to dry his hair and he'd asked her if she could cut it for him. He didn't like his hair being so long, that was more Sammy's thing than his, and he really wanted his usual haircut to make himself feel a bit more like his old self. His mom had agreed, and Dean had a feeling that she understood his reasons behind the request. After his hair was cut and blow dried, it was way past time that they try to get some sleep. The sun would be up in just a few hours and Dean doubted that the day ahead would be an easy one. They had yet to discuss what exactly they'd tell his dad and it was not a conversation the pint-sized hunter was looking forwards to. Still, when his mom placed him on the bed, he was reluctant to sleep. Even after the bath, his Hell nightmare was still fresh in his mind. That was not something he wanted to relive again.

Dean lied down with his head on the pillow and his mom pulled the blanket up to cover him. He felt his heart start to beat rapidly even as his eyes tried to close. He could once more feel the hooks in his skin, the pain of torn flesh, and the feel of his skin burning. He went to sit up again, but his mom put a gentle hand on his chest to keep him down.

"You need sleep, Dean."

"I… I don't want to sleep, yet."

"Your body is tired and requires rest." Castiel spoke up from the corner of his room.

"I'm fine. I slept already."

"Not long enough." His mom responded.

"Are you concerned about further dreams about your time spent in Hell?" Cas asked.

Dean internally groaned as the angel brought the topic up in front of his mom. The less she knew about his time in the pit, the better.

"Is that what you were dreaming about?"

Seeing as to how the cat was well and truly out of the bag already, Dean just nodded.

"Oh, sweetie. I know that it must be terrible for you, but you really need to sleep. You'll get sick if you don't."

"I'll try." Dean gave in. They were right. He could feel that his body wasn't going to be able to stay awake much longer. So, trying to put Hell out of his mind, the boy once more shut his eyes.

He felt his mom's hand gently stroking through his short, spiky hair. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"Get some sleep, baby."

"I will watch over you as you sleep." Cas stated, walking to stand next to the bed.

It wasn't the first time over the years that the angel had said that, and every other time Dean had shot him down, explaining that it was kind of creepy. But tonight, having his friend there was rather appealing. Not like he'd admit it though.

"Whatever floats your boat, dude."

Castiel shot him a confused look. "I don't own a boat, Dean."

"It's an expression, Cas. It means… do whatever makes you happy."

"I understand."

Dean saw his mom smile and shake her head. He shrugged back at her. Then Dean closed his eyes once more and tried to think of his mom, who was going to live a long life now and Sammy, who wouldn't be plagued with Azazel's blood and his dad who wouldn't end up a bitter, vengeful widower. He tried to fill his head with all the happy thoughts he could to try and block out the memories of unending torture and torment. As he drifted back into an uneasy sleep, Dean had a feeling that he would not succeed.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** I hope you all enjoyed. This was a bit of a lighter chapter... but things won't stay peaceful forever (insert evil laughter here). Please take a moment and leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks._


	9. Snapshots

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone. I want to thank Stone120, FireChildSlytherin5, RoseDragon666, PsychoPicasso, savannaharaiza5, Hasmik Aharonyan, Eliza Ghost, B, snseriesfan, Crapes, BranchSuper, roy23, Wunjo, Vampy, and london'slonelyhearts for their wonderful reviews. I'm glad that you are all enjoying this crazy ride so far._

**Chapter Nine: Snapshots **

Mary woke to the sunlight steaming in through her window and warming her body. She sighed and rolled over, catching a glimpse of her husband sleeping next to her as she looked at her clock. It was just past ten in the morning. Shouldn't John be at work by now? And why hadn't Sammy woken her up already, crying and screeching for food and attention? And then the events of the previous night came crashing down on her.

With a gasp, Mary sat up in bed. She looked around her, waiting for something to be out of place. For something to show that her entire world had been turned upside down. But everything looked perfectly normal. She could almost believe that it had all just been a bad dream. Almost. But she knew the truth and, as a hunter, she'd learned that it could be very dangerous to reject the truth in favor of a nice fantasy.

She got up out of bed and then saw the proof that her life had taken a very strange turn. Her nightgown from the night before lay discarded on her hamper, her son's blood staining the once pretty fabric. She knew she'd have to throw it out. No amount of washing could ever get it clean.

Throwing a robe on over her light blue pajamas, Mary walked out of her room. But instead of going down the stairs, she took a detour down the hall. She looked into Dean's room, expecting to see her son fast asleep, the trench coat wearing angel watching over him. But the bed was unmade and the room deserted. She was about to move on when something caught her eye.

An old duffle bag lay open on the floor with an assortment of guns next to it. She'd seen it the night before, but had been too busy taking care of Dean to inspect it further. And since she knew that her son had spent years around weapons and had been smart enough to give her the colt instead of trying to use it himself, she hadn't seen it as a danger to leave the mess be for that moment. But now…

Mary made her way to the bag and crouched down. She placed all three guns and the boxes of ammunition back inside the duffle, along with the nasty looking knife and the bottle of holy water. Then she picked up a piece of plain white paper. Turning it over, she saw a note printed in neat handwriting. Curiosity got the best of her and she read it. It was from Castiel to Dean, wishing the boy luck and letting him know about the contents of the bag. Mary looked down at the remaining items, wanting to know what personal effects her son had held dear. There was an old looking journal and a few photographs scattered on the ground. After a moment's hesitation, she picked up the photos.

She recognized the first one. It was a picture of John, her, and the boys that was taken not too long ago. But this copy of it looked old and worn. Mary flipped to the next. John stood in front of the Impala holding a toddler in his arms while a seven-ish year old Dean stood next to them. Unlike the first photo, no one was smiling. She wondered who'd taken the picture. The next showed two boys on the hood of an old car that was sitting in a scrap yard, playing with little green army men. The older boy (Dean, who looked to be around 10 or so) was sprawled out on his stomach while the younger (which must've been a six year old Sam) was sitting cross-legged. The following photo looked like a souvenir photo taken in a booth. The border was done-up like that of an old western wanted poster. A teenager with spiky hair and Dean's green eyes looked slightly annoyed while a pre-teen boy with a mop of brown hair smiled at the camera. Mary guessed the picture was Sam's idea, and not one that Dean had supported. She noticed that the teen was wearing the same strange charm around his neck that she'd seen her son wearing the night before. Mary would have to ask him about it. When she got to the next picture, Mary almost dropped them all. Two young men stood near the Impala in a picture that they obviously didn't know was being taken until the last moment. The taller of the two had long shaggy brown hair that was obviously soaking wet and had turned to the camera while in the middle of trying to grab a mostly empty water bottle from the other man. It wasn't hard to figure out that he'd gotten the water poured over his head and was now trying to get revenge. But it was the shorter man who caught Mary's attention. Because he shouldn't be in that picture. He was then hunter who'd showed up ten years ago when the demon, Azazel, had killed her parents. The one who'd warned her not to get out of bed on November second. The one who'd called himself Dean. He was her grown up son. Mary guessed he'd traveled back in time then as well, but it was just so hard to wrap her head around the idea that that man had been her son. In the picture he was smiling a cocky smile as he tried to keep the water bottle away from the other man, who must've been Sam. It was surreal to look at a picture of how her babies were going to look all grown up. But at least they seemed happy together. The next picture was a slightly blurry, off centered picture of her grown up sons and an older man in a trucker's cap. They were all smiling at the camera. And the final photograph was of Dean and Castiel sitting at a motel table. The angel looked like a deer caught in the headlights, while her son was giving the photographer the finger. Mary couldn't help but laugh.

She got up, taking the photos, the note, and the journal with her. She was tempted to open the battered book up and look through it but didn't want to invade Dean's privacy. Well, anymore than she already had by looking through his photographs. So Mary placed the items on her son's nightstand. Then she pushed the duffle bag under Dean's bed with her foot and left the room.

Mary walked downstairs to the smell of bacon and eggs. John was still in bed though, so she figured that Castiel must've made breakfast. She'd have to thank him. It was weird to think that an angel had cooked for her. It was actually sometimes hard to remember that Castiel was an angel because of the way Dean treated him. She would've thought that her son would treat an angel with respect but he acted more like a person would with a close friend.

As she stepped into the small dining room, she saw Dean kneeling on a chair that was pushed up close to the highchair where Sammy sat making happy noises around a mouthful of food. As she watched, Dean scooped up another spoonful of rice baby cereal and held it up to his little brother. The baby smiled and opened his mouth greedily. Dean fed him the cereal and then scooped up some more.

"Good morning."

Dean turned to look at her. "'Mornin'."

"You should've woken me, Dean. I could've fed him."

The boy shrugged. "It's no problem, Mom. I'm used to it. Took care of Sammy all his life."

"Well, you don't have to now." Mary informed him.

"Old habits die hard. 'Sides, I don't mind it. It's cool seeing him little again."

"Well then, we do it together." Mary insisted. She wanted to take the burden of raising his brother off of Dean, but was getting the idea that it wasn't something the boy would easily let go of. Just then, Castiel wandered in from the kitchen. "Thank you for making breakfast." Mary told him.

Dean started to laugh. "Dude, Cas can't cook. If he made breakfast, I doubt it'd be edible."

"I don't need to eat, so cooking food never seemed important." The angel defended himself.

"Whatever." Dean was smirking.

"Then who…" Mary was going to ask who'd made breakfast, but since John was sleeping, Sammy was six months old, and Cas apparently couldn't cook, that only left one option. "Dean? You made breakfast?"

"Yeah, bacon and eggs. Was gonna make some pancakes, but we're outta mix."

Mary glanced into the kitchen and saw that the step stool that typically sat in front of the sink for Dean to use was now in front of the stove. "You shouldn't be using the stove! You could've burned yourself!"

"Mom, I've been cooking on a stove since I was just a bit older than this body is. I know what I'm doing."

"Since you were… why? Didn't your dad take care of the cooking?"

"Since when does Dad cook?"

"Well, if one of you were going to learn, it should've been him."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Like he was around enough to learn." He mumbled.

Mary wasn't sure if she wanted to know any more about how her boys grew up. Each new piece of information just broke her heart a little bit more. She knew that eventually she'd have to find out more details but, sensing that this was a touchy subject for her son as well, she changed the topic. "I'll serve us some food."

As they both were munching on the delicious breakfast, Mary took the time to study her son. He looked different with his hair so short. But the photos she had seen confirmed what she'd suspected the night before. Dean was used to short hair. The long hair his younger self had had up until last night probably seemed foreign to him now and Mary could only imagine how strange this whole situation was for him. If he wanted to change his look to feel a little more like himself, she wouldn't argue. Truthfully, it also helped to remind her that he wasn't the same Dean that she'd had yesterday. This was a bit sad but also useful, as she couldn't keep treating him like he was a regular four year old. Besides the hair, there were other things that were different about him. His eyes had the look of a person who'd seen far too much. He held himself differently too. He sat slightly hunched over, but with an almost defiant set to his shoulders. And his smile wasn't the bright, carefree smile of a child. But as she looked him over, something caught her eye and made her smile.

"Not the shirt I would think you'd choose to wear."

Dean looked down at his blue 'I Wuv Hugs' teddy bear t-shirt. "Sentimental reasons."

"I always liked that shirt on you."

"I know. You bought it for me."

There was silence for a moment. Then Mary turned to Castiel.

"So, what's next?"

"We tell John Winchester the truth when he wakes and then we all prepare for the battles to come."

"Dude, that plan sucks ass."

"Dean!" Mary scolded him. She'd been hearing that sort of language from her son since last night and had tried to ignore it but that sentence was just beyond vulgar.

"It's true."

"Do you always talk like that?"

"Yes, he does. Although at times his expressions are more colorful." Castiel answered for Dean.

Mary almost laughed at the thought that her son spoke like a drunken sailor in front of an angel of the Lord. But she decided to drop the subject for now. She seemed to be doing that an awful lot.

"Dean does have a point though. First off, I'm not sure it's such a good idea to tell John the truth about all of this. And secondly, what battles to come? I know you said there were things that Dean needed to do, but I assumed it was a bit further in his future."

"No it's not. Dean's father was saving people when he was a small boy and those events must still take place. And I doubt the demons will leave your family alone. As for telling your husband, he will not forget the events of last night."

"So, we make something up." Dean suggested.

"And we don't need to tell him about Dean, right?" Mary asked. Because that was one story that she didn't want her husband to know. What exactly was she supposed to say? 'Oh by the way honey, if I'd died last night you would have completely screwed our sons' futures up'. Yeah, that would not be a wonderful conversation. And it would lead to him finding out about all things supernatural. Another thing she really hoped to avoid.

Castiel tipped his head to the side, looking both confused and curious. "Do you honestly think he will not notice a difference in his son?"

Mary looked at Dean and realized that Castiel had a point. Even if they could somehow explain away the events of the previous night, there was no way that he'd miss the changes in Dean. And it wouldn't be fair for Dean to have to try and act like a little kid every time John was around. Mary wasn't even sure if he'd be able to pull it off.

"Yeah, okay… I just… I never wanted John to know."

"Never wanted me to know what?"

Everyone in the room, including baby Sam, turned to see John Winchester standing in the doorway.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. Up next... John Winchester! Please review as reviews help keep the demons away from my house. Thanks._


	10. Insane Truths

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone, I'm glad you guys are enjoying. I want to thank roy23, verunder, snseriesfan, Stone120, Invader Kiwi, Hasmik Aharonyan, FireChildSlytherin5, guest, murphy9202, Eliza Ghost, X5EgSparks, savannaharaiza5, Darkbrokenreaper, PsychoPicasso, BranchSuper, laurie31, and Shorty22133 for their wonderful reviews. And here it is... the moment you've all waited for... John Winchester's reaction..._

**Chapter Ten: Insane Truths **

John had woken with a start, images from the previous night pounding in his head as his heart followed the example in his chest. He threw back the covers and practically leaped from the bed. He saw his wife's bloodstained nightgown lying on top of the hamper but paid it little attention as he rushed out of the room and into Sammy's nursery. It was empty. John scanned the room but found nothing out of place. No dead body. Not even any blood on the floor from the man or Dean. It was as if nothing bad had ever happened in the house. But Mary's nightgown and his own memories told a very different story.

John walked downstairs and he could hear voices coming from the dining room. As he drew closer, he could make out the voices as those of Dean, Mary, and the man from last night. What the hell was he still doing here? John didn't like him. Sure, he'd somehow healed Dean but since that in of itself was impossible, it made him incredibly wary of the trench coat wearing man. Besides, the guy was calling himself an angel, so he was obviously either lying or was delusional. Add that to the fact that he'd somehow knocked John out, and the ex-marine was not a fan of the newcomer. And it was troubling that Dean seemed to know the stranger. Was the guy some kind of pedophile or something? If so, John would kill him.

As he reached the doorway, he heard Mary say that she didn't want him to know something.

"Never wanted me to know what?" He asked. Everyone turned to stare at him. "And what the hell is he still doing here?" John pointed at the man who was standing close to Dean. And speaking of Dean, since when had his son worn his hair so short?

"Dad, it's okay. Cas is fine. He's an angel, remember?"

"Get away from my son. What are you, some sort of pervert?"

"No, I have already told you that I'm an angel."

"Yeah, sure you are." John growled out taking a step towards them.

"John, please. Castiel is here to help." Mary walked to him and put up her hand to stop him from getting any closer to the man.

"Mary, you can't really believe that this man is an angel, can you?"

"Then you explain how he brought Dean back from the dead. Our son was dead, John. You saw it for yourself. And Castiel healed him and brought him back to life. So, if he's not an angel, then how did he do it?"

And there it was. The question that John could not answer. "I don't know but…"

"Please John, just listen. There's a lot of things that you don't know about and now you're going to need to know.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you give us a moment, we can tell you." Dean commented.

John turned to him, remembering how strange his son had acted the previous night. He'd thought maybe it had been from shock, but the boy seemed calm enough now. Too calm for a four year old who'd been killed just hours ago.

"What's wrong with Dean? He's not acting like himself." Then he looked pointedly at the child. "And I don't appreciate his tone."

Dean smirked at him.

"That will be explained too." Mary assured him. "Just let me talk and don't interrupt please. First off, my parents didn't die of heart attacks. I mean, the likelihood that they'd both die the same night of natural causes is… well, I'm surprised you believed that. But I guess you had no reason not to. But they were actually killed by a demon."

John opened his mouth to tell her that there was no such thing, but then closed it again. He was going to let her finish her bizarre story before letting her know that she was crazy. Of course, he couldn't deny that it had seemed odd that her parents had both died on the same night. The night that she'd seemed scared and begged him to take her away. And he'd had some kind of black out that night and had awoken to find that her dad had died just a few feet away and had blood all over his shirt. Mary said he'd landed on something sharp when the heart attack had occurred but wouldn't let him get a closer look at the body. So, maybe there was a bit more to that story than what he'd been told.

"And yes, demons do exist. And so do ghosts, zombies, werewolves, and a bunch of other creatures that are considered merely myths or legends. I know this because my father hunted them. It was his life's work and he raised me to know how to hunt too. But I didn't want to do it anymore. It was too much and I just wanted a safe, nice life with you. That's why I asked to run away with you. I wanted to get out. But apparently fate won't let me. The man who killed Dean last night was the same demon. He was coming for Sammy and Dean tried to protect him. I got in the room too late to save Dean but I killed the demon with a very special gun that legend says can kill anything. Then Castiel brought Dean back to us." There was a very awkward pause. "And I know this is a lot to take in but it's all true."

John tried to comprehend all that he'd just been told. It was ridiculous. Just completely nuts. But Mary was looking at him so seriously and with a look in her eyes just begging him to believe her. He almost wished that he could.

"No, that's just crazy. And you shouldn't be saying these things in front of Dean."

"Dude, I know more about this crap than she does." Dean muttered under his breath.

"Dean Winchester, you watch your mouth!" John scolded.

"Learned it from you." The boy responded with a shrug.

John turned to his wife to avoid completely losing his temper with the boy. "So then, what's wrong with Dean?"

"Uh… that's a little harder to explain."

"Harder to explain that demons and angels?"

"Actually, yes."

"I got this one, Mom." Dean spoke up.

John approached the table and sat down opposite his son. "What is up with you, Dean?"

"I'm from the future. Actually, from an alternate future. And yeah, I know, you think that I'm nuts-o too, but hear me out. Mom was supposed to die last night. The demon came here hoping to infect Sammy with his blood and Mom was going to walk in on it and get killed. The demon would've burned our house down. You gave Sammy to me and told me to take him from the house. It was far too late for you to save Mom, and you fled too. The police ruled the fire and Mom's death an accident but you knew better. You searched until you discovered the truth about the supernatural. And then you hunted. You tracked down every creature you could and made them pay for the death of your wife while you desperately searched for her killer. And you taught me to hunt too. By the age of seven I was an excellent marksman and knew more about the paranormal than I knew about reading, writing, and arithmetic. We traveled from one skeezy motel to the next and I watched out for Sammy and raised him while you ganked every piece of crap creature we could track down. And when Sam learned the truth, you pushed him into hunting too. And it all came to head when I was twenty-six and you finally came face to face with the demon. And when the dust settled, you were dead. Sammy and I, we kept on hunting. And a year later I killed that yellow eyed demon bastard. But not before his little super powered soldier killed Sam. And I sold my soul to bring him back."

"Dean…" Mary started to say something, but Dean shot her a humorless smile that looked out of place on his childish face.

"Hey, if I don't tell him, Cas will."

"Your father will need to know just as much as your mom." Castiel spoke up.

"See." Dean rolled his eyes before continuing. "Anyway, a year later I was dragged to Hell and a while after that Cas here dragged my ass back out. But the apocalypse started and things went downhill. And then the world was ready to end, and everyone I ever knew who wasn't an angel in a trench coat was dead, and I was dying." Mary let out a gasp and John assumed that she hadn't been told everything that Dean was saying now. "So, Cas offered to send me back here to prevent all of this from happening by killing Azazel before he got to Sammy or Mom. Except he didn't say that I'd be in my four year old body." The last line was said pointedly to Castiel.

"I did say you'd have to grow up here."

"Hey, I was bleeding to death. Excuse the hell out of me if I didn't pick up on cryptic angel speak."

"I was not trying to be cryptic, Dean."

"Okay, enough!" John cut them off. He had the feeling that the two of them could continue back and forth for quite some time if they weren't interrupted.

Silence descended on the room as John thought over what he'd been told. It was crazy. But then again, so was the fact that his son had been killed and brought back to life the night before. And he certainly did sound more like an adult than a child… no. What the hell was wrong with him that he'd even consider this nonsense? But still, if he chose to not believe his wife and son, that meant that he'd have to explain this all some other way. He looked at Mary who was looking at him with a somewhat sad expression. And then he looked at Dean, who was looking at him semi-defiantly, as though challenging him to disagree. And John really wanted to do just that. And not just because the idea that supernatural creatures and angels and demons existed was completely insane but because he couldn't believe that he'd do the things that Dean had said he did. Or would. The idea that he'd teach a seven year old to use guns and leave him to raise his baby brother made him sick. As did the idea of his first born son suffering through the things he'd claimed to have lived through. And Sammy… The baby was but six months old and John felt such love towards him that he never wanted him to know any kind of hardship. So, no. None of what Mary and Dean had said could possibly be true.

"They speak the truth." Castiel informed him.

"What, you reading my mind?"

"No. But it is clear that you are in denial."

"I know that this is a lot to take in." Mary repeated in a soft, reassuring voice. "But you need to believe us."

John felt himself shaking his head as his mind tried desperately to reject everything he'd been told. But part of him trusted Mary and couldn't dismiss her out of hand. But still…

"Perhaps you just need some time to…" Castiel started to say.

"You are not an angel, nor do I welcome you into my house, so you can shut up!" John yelled. He was not sure what to think, do, or say. And, in times like this, he got frustrated. Often that frustration became anger. And if he had to shout at someone, the intruder in their house was a good person to take everything out on.

"Don't you talk to Cas like that!" Dean's voice was low and dangerous and completely different than anything John had ever heard come from his son's mouth.

"Are you really going to talk back to me?" John's voice was just as low and dangerous.

"You know what? For once in my life, I _am_ going to talk back to you, _sir_."

John's fists clenched. He would never hit the boy, but every muscle in his body was demanding him to punch something.

"Watch your tone, Dean."

"Dad, I know this is hard to accept, but everything we said is true. I know you don't wanna believe it and you're pissed because all this crap is out of your control and you're nothing if not a control freak, but don't take it out on us. You're a smart man, Dad, so think it over. And while you're at it, chill out."

John felt like the entire world had become a strange funhouse mirror version of reality. He couldn't even form words to respond to Dean. But he was saved from it by a knock on the door.

As he left the room, John heard Dean mutter "Well, that went well."

He ignored the comment as he walked to the front door, unlocked it, and swung it open. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, stood there with a shy smile on her face. She was wearing a pair of black stretch pants, an oversized purple and black sweater, and a pair of running shoes. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a loose braid.

"Can I help you?" John asked.

"Uh, that depends. Is this the Winchester home?"

"Yeah, why? We're not interested in buying anything or changing religions if that's what you're here about."

"Oh, no. I'm not here for that. I just have some business with your family."

John felt warning bells start to go off in his head. But the woman was short and thin and couldn't possibly pose a threat to him. "What kind of business?"

"Revenge."

"What?"

"You see, my father was killed here last night. So now, you and your entire family will die."

John was about to warn her that he'd call the police when he found himself thrown to the ground. Which was strange because he could've sworn that she hadn't even laid a hand on him. John looked up as the woman walked into his house. She no longer seemed shy or harmless. And her eyes were pitch black.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Hahahahaha! Cliffhanger! Yay! Okay, I'm calm now... until someone shows up at my house to kill me for this... Hope you all enjoyed. Please take a moment to leave a review. The Winchesters' lives may depend on it..._


	11. Confrontation

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone. You almost had to wait another day to read this, but I couldn't do that to you. So, With a bit of work, I finished this up just a few minutes ago. I want to thank Araina Richardson, Invader Kiwi, Hasmik Aharonyan, Eliza Ghost, FireChildSlytherin5, savannaharaiza5, Stone120, angel de acuario, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Malallory, Rosedragon666, london'slonelyhearts, PsychoPicasso, Vampy, Wunjo, Shorty22133, BranchSuper, snseriesfan, roy23, elf, and laurie31 for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Eleven: Confrontation **

"Well, that went well." Dean muttered.

He was about to go into the kitchen to put his plate in the sink when something occurred to him. His dad had left the room to answer the door. But who the hell was at their door? If he remembered correctly, they didn't really get many visitors during the day.

The small hunter jumped off of his chair and followed his father. He got into the living room just in time to see his dad get thrown to the floor. A woman stepped into the house and stood over Dean's dad. Her eyes were black.

"Get away from him, you black-eyed bitch!" Dean yelled. He did so as much to get her attention as to warn his mom and Cas as to what was going on.

She turned to face him. "Tough words, little man. You going to come and make me?"

"Don't tempt me." Dean stood his ground a few feet away from her and tried to stare her down. He figured that it would've worked a lot better if he wasn't four years old. Speaking of which, his kiddy emotions tried to make him panic, but he swallowed it back. He was Dean Winchester and he did not back down from demons.

The demon chick looked at him curiously for a moment. "There's something… wrong about you."

"Me? Wow. You do realize that you are the very definition of wrong, right?"

"You know what else is wrong? Your family killed my father last night. And now I get to decorate this house with your entrails."

"Your father?" Dean took a closer look at her. The way she carried herself and the expression on her face. "Meg?"

"Who the hell is Meg?"

Dean recalled that Meg Masters was the name of the girl the demon had possessed and he'd never bothered to learn its real name. Oh well. "Your new name."

"Get out of our house."

Dean turned to see his mom walk into the room. She held a kitchen knife in one hand and a container of salt in the other. Cas stood in the doorway behind her.

"Ah, Mary Campbell. Ex-hunter. Still mourning the fact that my daddy killed your parents?"

"Well, I was. Until I killed your daddy last night."

Meg practically snarled at the other woman as she waved her hand. Dean found himself flung onto the stairs and out of her way as the demon bitch stalked towards his mom. And from his new vantage point, the boy saw a black-eyed man approaching their front door. The young hunter scrambled to his feet and looked over at his dad, who was just getting up. Dean knew that his father was unprepared for this fight, but this was the way it was going to have to go down.

"Dad! Another one's coming!" He yelled and then took off up the stairs. He really missed his long legs that would've taken him up two steps at a time. Dean hoped that he'd make it back downstairs to find that Cas had smote the crap out of the demons but just in case that didn't happen, his family was going to need weapons.

Dean ran into his room and found that the duffle bag was not on the floor where he'd left it. He looked around frantically, just beginning to panic, and then saw the bag under his bed. Dropping to his knees, the boy pulled the duffle out and unzipped it. He snatched up the holy water and the demon killing knife. Shoving the bottle into his pocket, he left his room and went into his parents' bedroom. His mom hadn't returned the colt to him the night before, so he figured he'd find it in here. A quick look into her nightstand revealed that he was correct. Dean grabbed it and rushed off to join the fight downstairs. He could hear the sounds of struggles and voices, although he couldn't make out what was being said. He prayed that his family was winning.

When Dean reached the bottom of the stairs, he quickly took in what was happening. Castiel was still standing in the doorway, and it dawned on him that the angel was protecting Sammy. Why he wasn't smiting them, Dean didn't know, but he trusted that Cas had a good reason. Dean's mom was engaged in hand to hand with Meg, and the demon's clothes were covered with salt. The male demon had Dean's dad pinned to the wall, but Dean was pleased to see that the man's face was bloodied and bruised. At least John Winchester had gotten in a few good punches before the demon had used its powers to get the upper hand.

Dean couldn't get the colt to anyone without running the risk of it falling into demon hands, so he tucked it into the waistband of his pants and got a grip on the hilt of the demon killing knife. He knew that he'd never have the strength to push it into the demon's heart (hell, he couldn't even reach high enough to try) but with enough momentum, he could still do some damage. The boy held the blade out in front of himself and ran. He plowed full force into the possessed man and the knife plunged into his thigh. He screamed as lightning seemed to jump from the wound. Dean tried to pull it out, but it was stuck.

"Oh, crap."

The demon backhanded him and his tiny body went flying. The demon stalked towards him, limping from the knife still embedded in his leg. Dean saw his dad coming up behind the possessed man. The demon had obviously been distracted into releasing his hold on the man. Without hesitation, Dean pulled out the colt and slid it across the floor to his father. He watched his dad pick it up before turning his attention to the demon. The possessed man turned to see what Dean had given to his father and got shot in the head. His body fell to the ground and Dean grinned at his dad. But instead of a smile in response, the man looked at Dean as though he were some evil creature himself.

"No!" Meg's cry of distress tore Dean's gaze away from his dad. The boy turned to see the possessed woman staring in horror at the dead demon. "That was my brother!"

"Guess your family just got even smaller." Dean commented.

"Here, you can join them." He heard his father say.

But before he could pull the trigger, the woman opened her mouth and black smoke came pouring out. Dean watched as the demon flew up and then out of the house. The woman collapsed onto the ground. All was silent for a moment.

"Nice shooting, Dad." Dean commented as he got to his feet.

"What the hell was that?"

"Demons."

His dad stared at him. Dean stepped towards him and the man backed away.

"Don't come any closer."

"What? Why not?"

"Because maybe you're one of those things too."

"Really? That's your theory?"

"Well, you're certainly not my son."

"Oh, great. This again." Dean mumbled. "Look, we already told you why I'm acting a little different."

"No. Dean doesn't act like you or talk like you. And he doesn't stab people or carry around guns. You are nothing like him and he would never grow up to be like you." The words were spat out with disgust. Dean was used to being a disappointment to his dad, but enough was enough.

"Don't you dare!" Dean yelled. "Don't you judge me and say that crap when you're the reason I grew up like this."

"I would not raise my children the way you claim."

"Newsflash, Dad. You did. So you deal with it because we got bigger things going on than your inability to grasp the truth."

"Dean is right." Cas spoke up. "We need to protect this house quickly in case there are any more attacks on your family."

John turned on him. "Well, aren't you supposed to be an all-powerful angel? Why don't you just take care of them?"

"I never claimed to be all-powerful." Cas pointed out.

"Seriously though, Cas. Why didn't you smite the hell out of them?" Dean asked.

"The other angels will try to stop me if they realize what I've done. I am using most of my energy to hide my presence from them. Every time I use my powers, I run the risk of revealing myself to them."

"But… you brought me back and healed me last night."

"That was an acceptable risk."

Dean grinned. "Aw, thanks Cas. Never knew you cared."

The angel tilted his head to the side. "I believe I've made it clear on several occasions that I consider you a friend."

"Right." Dean nodded, still smiling.

"I can still teleport without causing too much noise, so I'll take care of the woman who was possessed and the dead body."

"Just take the knife out first. Don't wanna loose that."

"This is insane." Dean's dad muttered, but it lacked any kind of conviction.

"It really is." Mary agreed. "But it's real and it's happening. And Castiel is right. We need to protect the house."

"How?"

"Salt." Dean's mom answered. "We need to create salt lines near the doors and windows."

"That's not gonna be enough." Dean cut in. "Demons find all sorts of ways to mess up the salt." He thought for a moment. "We can mix the salt into the paint and repaint the window sills and doorways. And we'll need to draw devil's traps too."

His mom looked at him curiously. "What are devil's traps?"

"Uh, the Key of Solomon. It's this symbol that once a demon steps into, they can't get out. Oh, and we'll need to get some charms to protect ourselves from being possessed."

Both of his parents were staring at him.

Dean shrugged. "I've had a lot of experience with these black-eyed sons of bitches."

The boy walked past the others into the dining room where Sammy was still sitting in his high chair, now happily smearing his baby cereal all over the feeding tray. Dean hopped into the chair next to him.

"Hey, Sammy. That good?"

The baby waved his little hands in the air and screeched.

"I'll take that as a yes. Why don't we get you cleaned up, huh? Mom makes the best bubble baths."

Dean went to take Sammy out of his chair when his mother came over and picked up the infant.

"I've got him, Dean. Why don't you get some paper and draw out the devil's trap so we can copy them around the house?"

"Okay." Dean reluctantly agreed. Having help caring for his baby brother was something that was going to take some getting used to.

"What can I do?"

Dean turned to see his dad standing in the doorway, looking unsure of himself. The boy knew that his father was having a hard time coping with all of this and was looking for something to do. The man hated inaction.

"Uh, we need to take stock of what we have and what we need. Gather up all the paint and salt we have. We'll probably have to go to a store and pick stuff up. We also need to find an air gun with low kick back that can be converted into a weapon that I can use."

"You're not getting a gun."

"You gave me my first gun when I was five, Dad. It was a converted air gun and we loaded it with anything we needed to fight whatever creature you were currently hunting. By the time I was eight, I was using a regular rifle and shotgun. I know more about weapons than anyone else in this house and if you want us to live, I need to be able to fight."

There was silence for a moment. His dad looked like he was going to start another argument, and boy had Dean had enough of them already, but then he just shook his head.

"I'll go see what supplies we have." And then the oldest Winchester walked off.

"This is hard on him, Dean. Maybe you can try toning it down a bit?"

"This isn't easy on any of us, but we can't afford to 'tone it down' right now, Mom."

"I know. Just… remember that he's not the same man who raised you."

"And I'm not the same kid that he's been raising."

"Then I guess we all need to adjust to each other."

"Won't that be fun?" Dean muttered sarcastically. Then he started up the stairs towards his bedroom. He needed to draw the symbol out so that they could get started with protecting the house. He had no illusions that Meg would just leave them alone. And she was just out for revenge. The real fun would begin when the ones who didn't want their apocalyptic plans to change started showing up. Of course, that was only if the Winchesters didn't all kill each other first. Not for the first time, Dean wondered what the hell Cas had gotten them all into.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed the fight and the family drama. More of both to come. Please take a moment and leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks so much._


	12. Protection

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! As some of you already know, I've been working my butt off to bring you this chapter today. And I succeeded! Awesome. But first, I want to thank Stone120, roy23, snseriesfan, savannaharaiza5, angel de acuario, guest, RoseDragon666, FireChildSlytherin5, new21writer, elf, SkyHighFan, X5EgSparks, Eliza Ghost, Hasmik Aharonyan, FireAngel5683, murphy9202, Elise, and BranchSuper for their wonderful reviews._

**Chapter Twelve: Protection **

Mary saw Dean flinch as the front door slammed behind John. Her husband had come back from taking stock of their supplies and thrown a notebook down onto the dining room table. Dean had looked over the list and then wrote down what they'd need and in what quantity. The boy had then told them that it would be best if they got the stuff as soon as possible. John had snatched up the list and stomped to the door. Dean had followed, offering to go with his father to help out but John had completely ignored the boy and left, slamming the door behind him. Mary desperately hoped that he'd be back and wasn't taking off for a few days again.

Mary sighed and placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Come on, Dean. We need to plan out where we want to draw those devil's traps."

Dean turned towards her and she saw a brief glimpse of hurt on his face before he covered it up with a smile. "'Kay. We should start at this door. Maybe draw one under the rug. It's best if the demons don't see it. Oh, and it'll also be best not to freak out any guests."

Mary wasn't sure how to respond. All her mothering instincts were screaming at her to hold him tight and tell him that he was still loved, just like he always did for her when John and her would fight. But she was getting the feeling that Dean was not used to being comforted and would reject her attempts. And she certainly didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Okay. Do you want to draw it or should I?"

"I'll do the first one and you can do the next." He offered.

"A perfectly normal mother/son arts and crafts project, right?" She joked.

Dean grinned. "Yeah. Tomorrow we can make protection symbols using macaroni and Elmer's glue."

Mary laughed and ruffled his spiky hair. She was glad to have some time alone with him. Sammy was sleeping and Castiel had left to go find the anti-possession charms they'd need. And now that John had stormed out of the house, Mary was left with just her son. She missed the way that he'd been just the day before, but couldn't deny that she loved him just the same. Despite what she'd said the night before, he was still her Dean. Very different, but still sweet and caring. If only she could get John to see it that way.

Dean helped move the rug out of the way and then grabbed the small paintbrush that had come with one of his water-color books. He dipped it into the black oil-based paint and carefully began creating the trap. The boy made it as wide as the door, working slowly and meticulously. When he was finished, he stood up and grinned.

"Done."

"Nice. We can put the rug back in a couple of hours, when it's dry. But for the windows, I think we're going to have to get creative on how to hide them."

"We can put small rugs or tables or desks over them. Won't be a problem."

"Just what I was thinking."

"I know. You were a hunter, Mom. Even if you've never made a devil's trap before, I'm sure you've had to hide symbols and other stuff many times."

"True." She admitted. "And you'd know all about my family since you were there ten years ago."

Dean looked at her, surprised.

"How'd you know?"

"I saw a picture of the older version of you in your room. Imagine my surprise when I recognized you."

"Oh. Yeah. I tried to stop the demon from killing your parents but…"

"It's okay, Dean. It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah." Dean's tone made it clear that he obviously didn't agree. "Anyway, it's almost lunch time, so why don't we take a break."

"Sure." Mary reluctantly dropped the subject.

A few minutes later, the two of them sat at the table eating sandwiches. Mary had cut the crust off of Dean's and was rewarded by warm smile. She'd poured him a glass of chocolate milk and had promised him some pie for desert. It seemed his sweet tooth hadn't changed at all.

"Dean, I have a question."

"Shoot." Dean spoke around a mouthful of bread and meat. Apparently his manners hadn't survived him growing up.

"What was the demon doing here? You said he wanted to infect Sammy with his blood. Why? What does that mean?"

Dean squirmed uncomfortably. "Nothing. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me."

"Yeah well, it shouldn't. It's never gonna happen now."

"Dean, please. I need to know."

The boy hesitated a moment longer and then, with a sigh of resignation, shrugged. "Azazel was going to bleed into Sammy's mouth. He's done this with other kids too."

Mary felt sick. "But why?"

"All the kids that he infected grew up to develop powers. Some were telekinetic, some had the power of persuasion, others were super strong. Sam started off with prophetic dreams."

"Started off?"

"It… got out of control in later years. But it was also useful to the demons and angels because it meant that Sam could do stuff they needed to kickoff the apocalypse."

"I don't understand. Sam started the apocalypse?"

"It was a lot of different things. And I should've stopped it all long before it started. But, as I said, it doesn't matter now. Thing's are gonna be different this time around."

Every time that Mary learned more about what the future could've been, she wished that she could forget it. But how was that fair? Why should she live in blissful ignorance when her son had had to actually live through all of that and carry those memories forever? Especially when it was her deal ten years ago that had started everything.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. The thing's you've been through…"

"It's fine. I'm fine."

Once again, Mary found herself moving on to another topic for her son's sake.

"So, when do you think Castiel will be back?"

"Now." Dean replied, looking behind her.

Mary spun around and nearly jumped out of her skin. The angel was less than a foot behind her.

"Oh my God! Next time, can you please not appear so close to me?"

"Sorry. It was not my intention to startle you."

"Cas is still trying to figure out the concept of personal space." Dean looked amused.

"It's fine." Mary took a deep breath. "Did you manage to get them?"

"I would not have returned without them." Castiel replied. He reached into his pocket and retracted his closed fist. The angel turned his hand over and opened it. There were three small charms in his palm. "Take one for yourselves and the other is for Sam."

"Do you really think they'll possess a six month old?" Dean questioned.

"It's not likely, no. But he will have it for when he grows."

Mary picked one up. "Wait. There's only three. What about John?"

"I stopped by the store he was in and gave it to him."

"You what!" Dean exclaimed. "Please tell me that you didn't just suddenly appear behind him too."

Castiel looked uncomfortable. "There was no one around him to see my entrance." He defended himself.

"Oh, John must've loved that."

"No, he didn't. He attempted to punch me."

Dean put a hand to his mouth as he began to giggle. Mary smiled and shook her head.

"Oh, one more thing." Castiel reached over and put his hand on Dean's chest. The boy's eyes widened and he let out a scream.

"Hey, stop!" Mary ordered, wondering why the angel was hurting her son. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull it away, but found she couldn't move it an inch. But after a few more seconds, he let go.

"Dude! What the hell was that?!" Dean cried out.

"I apologize, but it was necessary."

"Did you do that whole symbols on the ribs thing? 'Cause it won't help if the angel and demons already know where we live."

"It is not the same symbol. It will not hide _you_, but the condition of your soul."

"What does that mean?" Mary asked.

"Dean has been through Hell. His soul carries the scars from that and other hardships in his life. Angels can see this. If they show up to check on your family, they will recognize that there is something wrong with Dean. With the symbols now on his ribs, the others will only see the soul of a regular four year old child."

"The others? You still see his real soul?"

"Yes. I know Dean's soul too well for the camouflage to work on me."

"You can see my soul just by looking at me? That's creepy."

Mary ignored Dean's comment. "But what about you? Don't you think they'll be curious about you being here?"

"Yes. But I have already camouflaged myself as well. If they don't look too hard, I will appear to be nothing more than an ordinary human."

"If they don't look too hard?"

"They would need to know what to look for to see it. Since this body is supposed to be much younger and they know that I am in Heaven, it is unlikely that they will see my true self."

Mary nodded. Castiel seemed to have thought a lot about how to protect them all from angels. She understood from earlier conversations that not all angels had their best interests in mind, but it was still weird to think of beings from Heaven as enemies. She was also a little saddened by Castiel's comment about her son's soul being damaged. She wished that there was something she could do to help heal him. Maybe she'd have to talk with Castiel later, when Dean wasn't around.

"Awesome." Dean stated. "The angels will just think that we have an annoying houseguest who won't leave."

"Speaking of which, we have a guestroom down the hall. I'll get the bed ready for you so you'll have a place to stay." Mary offered.

"That's not necessary. I don't sleep."

"But you'll need somewhere to spend the nights if you plan on staying nearby to protect us."

"I will stay in Dean's room with him."

"Hell no, you won't!" Dean exclaimed. "That's just… no way, Cas."

"I was in your room last night."

"Extenuating circumstances. But it's not gonna be an every night thing. I need my space, and you need yours."

Castiel turned to face Mary again. "The guestroom would be nice, thank you."

"I'll get it ready after we finish with the devil's traps."

"I will assist you both."

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean buttoned up his pajama shirt as he kicked his dirty clothes into the corner of his room. He was beyond exhausted. After the events on the previous night, not sleeping, and the busy day he'd had, the boy was ready to pass out. But still, memories of the nightmares he'd been plagued with last time he'd slept were enough to keep him from going to bed until well after nine o'clock. Well, that and the fact that he was still waiting for his dad to come home.

John Winchester hadn't arrived back at the house or even called since stomping out the door at noon. Cas insisted that the man was fine, but Dean wondered where the hell he could be. More than likely in a bar getting plastered. Dean didn't blame his dad for having a hard time with all of this, but he was more than tired of the man running out on his family constantly. It had happened when he was just a kid (the first time around) every time Mary and him would fight and he continued the trend as Dean grew up. If he wanted to keep giving Dean the silent treatment for the rest of his life, so be it. But Mary and Sammy needed him and if Dean had to further ruin his relationship with the man by telling him to cut this crap, then he would. But first, his dad needed to get his ass back home.

But Dean couldn't force his little body to stay up any longer. He'd just have to save the arguing for another day.

The small, tired hunter climbed into bed and wiggled under the covers. The house was protected, he and Cas were hidden, and he wore the anti-possession charm around his neck with the amulet that Sam had given him that one Christmas morning that would now never happen. Dean was as safe as he could be with Heaven and Hell both against him. So, with a bit of reluctance, the boy closed his eyes to face the one thing he had no protection from. His own mind.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Hope you all enjoyed. Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think. Next up, we see if Dean can escape his memories of Hell and we find out what John's up to. Lots of fun ahead. Thanks for taking this trip with me!_


	13. Coping

_**Author's Note: **Another update! I'm on a roll here... Anyway, I'd like to write a quick disclaimer that you all have probably already figured out: Dean is awesome and any thoughts/words to the contrary in this or any other chapter is merely the opinion of the character and does not reflect reality. Ok, that's done. Now I'd like to thank verunder, savannaharaiza5, FireChildSlytherin5, Stone120, PsychoPicasso, guest, shorty22133, snseriesfan, RoseDragon666, Julefor, BranchSuper, FireAngel5683, angel de acuario, Star-Simple-Dust, elf, Hasmik Aharonyan, guest, and Sen2TOS9 for their wonderful reviews. Thanks guys._

**Chapter Thirteen: Coping **

John Winchester knew that he was being an ass. He had a wife and a baby back home waiting for him and here he sat in some skuzzy bar drinking his sixth (seventh… eighth?) beer and crunching on slightly stale peanuts. He'd been driving to clear his head when he'd seen the place and decided that it couldn't hurt to stop. But now it was after dark and he still couldn't bring himself to go home. John knew that Mary was probably worried about him and he was going to miss tucking in Sammy but after all that had gone on in that house in less than twenty-four hours, he just didn't want to step through the door yet. Besides, Dean was in that house.

John still hadn't figured out what exactly he was feeling about Dean. Sometimes he wanted to hold onto the child and never let go after seeing the boy dead the previous night. But mostly he was torn between wanting to smack the bossy, foul-mouthed kid's face and wanting to hold a cross up to the boy and back away from him. And then there was the fact that Dean was insisting he was raised to be the way he was by John himself. But that just had to be a lie. Or possibly a delusion. Yeah, that made sense. Maybe all the stress of what had happened to him in the nursery caused the boy to lose his mind. Pretending that he was older and raised to fight monsters was probably his way of dealing with being attacked by a real monster. It was his way of coping. Maybe all Dean needed was therapy.

But the thing John couldn't explain away was the demons. He'd seen their black eyes, felt their powers, and then witnessed the black smoke leave the woman's body. So, demons were real. Which meant that there was a chance that the trench coat man was who he claimed to be, because if evil beings existed then why not holy ones too. So, demons and angels had both been to his house. Another reason to not want to go home right now.

Then there was Mary. She'd admitted to lying about her past and her parents to try and keep the supernatural a secret from him. He wanted to be mad at her but truthfully he wished that she'd been successful at hiding this particular truth from him. But, on the other hand, had he known, then maybe he could've protected his family. The thought that Mary was supposed to have died that night killed him. Of course, that prediction had come from Dean, who was quite possibly semi-insane. Still, John knew that he should be home with her. Besides the lying, Mary had done nothing wrong and it wasn't fair to her or innocent little baby Sam if he didn't make his way home soon.

"Hard day?"

John turned to see a man sit down next to him

"Like you wouldn't imagine."

"Work? Or woman troubles?"

"Neither. Just… I guess it's mostly just issues with my kid."

"You don't say? I don't have kids myself, but I do work with them."

"You a teacher?" John asked, wishing the guy would shut up and leave him alone, yet relishing a normal conversation after all the bizarre ones he'd taken part in that day.

"Well, not really. I run a sort of a daycare in the area. I deal with a lot of children. Mostly traumatized ones. I'm a bit of a specialist."

This got John's attention. He really looked at the man for the first time. The guy was in his forties or so, thinning hair to go with a thin face. He was dressed in suit pants and a button up shirt that had what looked like dried paint on it. The man smiled at him.

"You ever deal with a four year old that almost died and is now quite possibly suffering from delusions?" John questioned, half-sarcastically.

"Oh children of all ages can experience psychological symptoms due to trauma. This your kid you're talking about?"

"Yeah."

"Well, being around other children who've suffered as well can only help. And I have quite a success rate with them." The man reached into his pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to John. "Why don't you think about it and give me a call. Perhaps I can help."

John wasn't sure if anything would help his son, but maybe he'd talk it over with Mary. They'd discussed sending Dean to a preschool or daycare so he'd get used to a classroom type of environment before starting kindergarten the next year but all of the ones in the area had filled up before they'd reached a decision. Maybe this could help Dean.

"Thanks, I'll think about it…" He looked at the card to see the man's name. "Alastair? That's an unusual name."

"Family name."

"Well, thanks." John repeated. He'd mention it to Mary when he got home. And he knew he should be headed there soon. He'd been gone since around noontime when he'd left to…

Oh crap! He'd forgotten about the supplies that were in the car. He needed to get them back to the house to protect his family.

"Sorry, but I have to run. Maybe I'll give you a call."

"I hope to see you again. And meet your kid." Alastair replied.

John hurried out the door and practically ran to his car.

When he pulled up in front of the house, John checked his watch. It was almost ten pm. Damn. But everything seemed quiet and all the lights were off. He figured everyone had probably gone to bed.

After entering, John went into the kitchen and found a plate of food that had been left on the counter. He considered warming it up and eating, but his stomach was filled with alcohol and he found that he didn't have much of an apatite. So instead, he tossed the plate into the refrigerator. He almost went to sit in his chair and watch the television, but memories of the previous night flooded his head and he decided to go straight to bed.

When he got upstairs, John peeked into Sammy's nursery. The baby was fast asleep in his crib. The father smiled at the sight. Despite what happened the previous night and this morning, his family was safe for the moment.

He left the nursery and tiptoed into Dean's bedroom. The boy was buried under his blankets, tossing a bit in his sleep. John watched him for a few minutes. He felt a little bad about how he'd treated him earlier. He should've realized that the attitude and wild stories were Dean's way of dealing with being killed by a demon. John decided he'd do whatever was needed to help his son through this.

Just as he was about to leave, the boy began to thrash violently. Dean was making a choked moaning noise and, as the man stepped closer to him, rolled right out of the bed. John ran forwards, certain that the fall would've woken his son. But as he knelt down next to the child, he saw that Dean was still asleep. The boy's eyes were rolling like crazy under his closed lids and then his small back arched off the floor as he let out a scream. The tiny body shook as though in a seizure and the scream died down to a pitiful sounding wail.

"Dean! Dean, wake up buddy. It's just a nightmare. Come on, wake up, son."

John wasn't sure whether or not to touch Dean as the boy continued to tremble and moan. The light flashed on as Mary rushed into the room and Castiel suddenly appeared next to John.

"He's having a nightmare and won't wake up." John told his wife. She had much more experience comforting the children than he did.

Mary went to pull Dean into her lap, but then he was hit with another seizure. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at Castiel.

"What's wrong with him? What do we do?"

The man (angel?) reached down and placed two fingers on the child's forehead. Nothing seemed to happen.

"He is trapped, lost in his memories."

"What does that mean?" John asked.

"It means I'll have to retrieve him." Castiel placed his entire hand on Dean's head and closed his eyes.

John looked to Mary and saw the same fear and helplessness he was feeling reflected in her eyes. His son was suffering and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean arched his back off of the table he was strapped to as the blade sliced into his flesh. He let out another scream of agony. He'd tried at first to be silent and not let the demon know how much pain he was in but he was far past the point of trying to keep up a brave front. Most of the skin had been cut and peeled off of his body and his blood was currently painting the floor. There was no denying that he was suffering.

His voice failed him after a moment though, and he let out a pitiful sounding moan. The blade carved deeper in and Dean felt the muscles in his left leg being torn out. He tried to scream again but his voice was hoarse and his cry came out weak and about as pathetic as himself.

"Oh, Dean, is this hurting you? I'm so sorry."

Dean tried to ignore the demon's voice.

"But then, you're used to pain, aren't you? Been suffering for quite a while now. But that's nothing compared to what you caused before coming here, is it? You dragged your brother into a life he never wanted and it killed his girlfriend and eventually him as well. Oh and then there's your father. Got him killed too, didn't you? And he was here for a loooong time."

Dean tried not to let its words get to him. But really, did he deserve this pain? Had he been a burden to his family? The agony of having the muscles stripped off of his right leg interrupted his thoughts.

"Ahhhh!" He managed a strangled cry as tears ran down his face.

"Leave him alone."

Dean heard a calm voice order. It was a voice he knew. It was Castiel's voice. Cas had freed him from Hell, so why was he back?

Then the pain stopped. Dean gasped and sat up on the table. The demon was gone and his body was once again whole. The hunter looked over to see his angel friend standing in the room, watching him sadly.

"Cas?" Dean had his voice back as well. "What's going on?"

"You are dreaming. Neither myself nor your parents could wake you."

"My parents?" Then Dean remembered. He looked down at his adult body, so different from the child-sized one he was in outside of his dreams. "So what? You popped into my dreams to see what's going on in my screwed up head?"

"We were worried. You were screaming and having seizures."

"Oh. Yeah well, Hell sucks."

"That's obvious."

They sat in silence for a moment. "Well, you gonna help me wake up?"

"I can, but I won't. Your body requires sleep."

"Sleep's overrated."

There was more silence. Then Cas spoke.

"I should let your parents know that you are okay."

"No!" Dean practically shouted. Then he tried to calm himself back down. "I mean, if you go, the dream will start up again, won't it?"

"It is likely."

"Awesome."

"I can stay."

"Whatever." Dean tried to act cool, but he was certain that the immense relief he was feeling was written all over his face.

"We'll leave your dream in the morning and then try to find a solution to your nightmares."

"Sounds like a plan." Dean agreed. He knew that he should tell Cas to go let his parents know what was going on after all, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Besides, when his screams and seizures calmed down, they would figure out that everything was alright. "So, what do we do for fun in here? I'm bored just sitting on a torturer's table."

"It's your dream. What do you do for fun in your dreams?"

"Dude, I am so not sharing that with you." Dean closed his eyes and concentrated hard. When he opened them, he and Cas were in a bar. It was empty except for them. Dean walked over to the back of the room, snatching a bottle of beer off of the bar on the way and grabbed a pool cue off the wall. He tossed it to the angel, who caught it midair. "So, wanna learn to play?"

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed! Please take a moment and leave a review to let me know what you thought. Please. Reviews are the only thing that keeps Alastair away from me..._


	14. Take a Sad Song and Make it Better

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Well, I would've gotten this chapter up yesterday but I spent the weekend hiding from Alastair because some of you decided that me bringing him into the story warrented you sending him after me. I'm lucky to be alive! Actually, I just was busy but the other excuse sounds cooler. Anyway, I want to thank Wunjo, snseriesfan, PsychoPicasso, Stone120, Araina Richardson, guest, Hasmik Aharonyan, RoseDragon666, X5EgSparks, savannaharaiza5, guest, FireChildSlytherin5, guest, roy23, FireAngel5683, elf, Chazioid, Star-Simple-Dust, angel de acuario, TankGirl, WitchOfDarkness13, and The Magnetic Witch for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Fourteen: Take a Sad Song and Make it Better**

Mary was relieved when Dean stopped moaning and shaking. After a few minutes with no sign of any further seizures, she allowed herself to relax. Her son hadn't yet woken, but obviously whatever Castiel was doing was working. With that crisis over, she realized that she could hear Sammy crying in his nursery. But before she could react, John was walking out of the room.

"I'll get Sammy."

Mary nodded, although she was sure he wouldn't turn to see her. She'd heard her husband come in the house shortly before Dean had begun screaming but had decided to just lie in bed and pretend to sleep. She didn't want to talk with him that night. She was far too upset and the last conversation they'd had when they were both emotional had led to John moving out of the house for a few days. This was not the time for infighting. They needed to both be calm and rational so that they could get their family through this. So pretending to sleep had seemed like the best decision. Well, it had until Dean had had his nightmare.

Now Mary sat watching as a small smile appeared on her son's face. She smiled in return. She definitely owed Castiel. But it didn't look like he'd be waking Dean up any time soon and Mary guessed that the floor couldn't be too comfortable. She wanted to pick Dean up and tuck him back into bed, however she wasn't certain that that was such a good idea. The angel hadn't moved an inch, still crouched down with his palm on the boy's forehead, and Mary didn't know if breaking that contact would adversely affect the child. So, instead, she slipped a pillow under his head, making sure not to jar the angel's hand. After covering Dean up with his comforter, Mary sat next to him and stroked his hair, still managing to avoid accidentally bumping Castiel. Quietly, she began to sing to her little boy.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad.  
Take a sad song and make it better.  
Remember to let her into your heart,  
Then you can start to make it better.

Hey Jude, don't be afraid.  
You were made to go out and get her.  
The minute you let her under your skin,  
Then you begin to make it better.

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain,  
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.  
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little colder."

"What are you doing?"

Mary stopped singing and turned to see John standing in the doorway.

"Singing to Dean."

"Why? He seems to be sleeping well. I think his nightmares are over for tonight."

"Still… I don't want to leave him. He was having seizures, John."

"We'll take him to the hospital tomorrow."

"And tell them what? That our son is having nightmares because of memories of spending years in Hell? Or maybe ask them to check him over to make sure there's no damage from being killed by a yellow-eyed demon?" Mary wasn't sure if it was possible to wake Dean up at this point, but she kept her voice low just in case.

"Mary, Dean's never been to Hell. That's a story he's making up. Please don't encourage his delusions."

"Delusions?"

"Yeah. I was thinking about it and it makes sense. He's only four years old, Mary. Making up these stories is the only way he can cope with what happened to him."

Mary stared at her husband for a moment before responding. "Do me a favor. Next time you decide to come up with a theory about our son, don't do it when you're drunk."

John glared at her. "So you think that Dean's story makes more sense?"

"Well, since his 'story' has been backed up by an angel and the events of the last twenty-four hours, I have to say yes." Mary tried to reign in her emotions and speak calmly "John, Dean woke me last night and told me what was going to happen. He gave me the weapon that worked on demons. Everything he's said so far has been the truth. And Castiel has supported Dean's story to the letter. He's actually the one that told me that Dean had to spend time in Hell."

A moment of silence passed between them. Then John shook his head. "No. It just makes no sense."

Mary smiled. "Trust me, time travel existing is a shock for me too. As is meeting an angel. Apparently the Campbell family didn't know as much about the universe as they thought they did."

John just shook his head again, but the slight loss of color in his face was an indication that his mental resistance to the truth was crumbling. "We'll talk about all this more in the morning. We need sleep."

Mary looked down at Dean who was still smiling contently. "Okay. You're right."

She leaned over and kissed her son's head. Then she stood and followed John out of the room, switching off the light as she went.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean opened his eyes and blinked rapidly against the sunlight streaming through the window and warming his room. He felt a hand resting gently on his forehead and was tempted to pull the soft blanket up over his eyes and just go back to sleep. But then the hand was removed and a voice greeted him.

"Good morning, Dean."

The boy sat up and spun around to see Castiel sitting on the floor next to him.

"Cas? What's going on?"

"You don't remember your nightmare?"

"Can't forget it, Cas. Oh, and by the way… you still need practice at the pool tables. What I meant was, why am I sleeping on the floor with you touching me?"

"You fell out of bed during your nightmare and were experiencing seizures. While I can enter dreams without physical contact, touching your forehead helped me find you quicker and assured that I would remain with you."

"Oh. Well, thanks." Dean kicked the covers off and stood up. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer. He took out a pair of jeans and then closed it. The next one up held his shirts. Dean rummaged through them, looking for one that wasn't too dorky. Finally, he decided on a dark blue shirt with a fire fighter symbol on the left breast. He was about to go get his desk chair so that he could reach the top drawer, when Cas opened it and handed him a pair of socks and some underwear. Dean wasn't sure whether to thank him or scold him for touching his briefs. He settled for ignoring the whole issue.

Clutching the clothing to his scrawny chest, Dean walked out of his room, down the hall, and into the bathroom. Once there, he walked over to the bathtub.

"Do you require assistance?"

"Unfortunately, yeah."

"What do you need me to do?"

Dean turned to face the angel. "Get my mom." At Castiel's look, Dean continued. "No offense, Cas. But if someone in this house is gonna have to see me naked, it's not gonna be you. And as my mom so eloquently pointed out, it's nothin' she hasn't seen before."

Cas nodded and disappeared. Once he was alone, Dean began to undress. His pajamas were damp and uncomfortable and he couldn't wait to get clean. Once he had stripped, the small hunter stood awkwardly waiting for his mom to arrive. He knew that her help was necessary and that she was used to helping her son bathe, but it was still uncomfortable for him. He spread a towel out in front of the tub and grabbed another. He was getting ready to put it down where he could easily get to it after his bath when the bathroom door opened.

"Sorry to bug you, Mom. But I need some help with…" Dean's voice died as he turned to face the door. His dad was standing there looking down at him. Dean held the towel in front of himself, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Dude! What the hell? Does everyone in this house have to drop in on me while I'm naked?"

A confused expression passed over his father's features. "What are you talking about?"

"Never mind. What are you doing here?"

"Castiel said you needed help."

"Uh, yeah. I asked him to send _Mom_ up here."

"I volunteered instead."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We need to talk."

"And we have to do it while I'm in the bathroom?"

His dad chuckled as he walked past him and turned on the water. "Apparently we do."

As the tub was filling, Dean's father poured in some Mr. Bubble and then turned to face the boy. Dean had tied the towel around his waist when his dad's back had been to him, and now stood waiting for whatever was to come. And he wasn't sure what that whatever was going to be. Would his dad yell at him again? Accuse him of lying? Scream that Dean was no son of his? Insist that the boy leave the house and never return? Dean felt his childish emotions bubbling inside of him, making him want to scream, cry, and run away all at the same time. How the hell had he ever survived childhood the first time around?

"I did some thinking last night. I was trying to figure out your… unusual behavior. What I came up with was a reasonable explanation centered around the fact that you died two nights ago and I have no clue how a child could deal with something like that. So I realized that there was a good chance that your attitude and wild claims could be due to trauma."

Dean gave his father a look. "You know, Dad… you shouldn't come up with theories about me when you're drunk."

He expected his dad to get pissed at the comment, but instead the man chuckled again. "So I've been told. But truthfully, it's a good theory. Or it would be if the rest of the world wasn't going insane. Because, as your mother pointed out, you aren't just acting differently. You know things that you shouldn't. And you have an angel friend who insists that you're telling the truth. But I don't give a crap what he says. I want to hear it from you."

"But I already told you…"

"Tell me again, Dean. Look into my eyes and tell me who you are."

Dean's father knelt down in front of him and took the boy's face in his hands, tilting it up so that their eyes met. The man almost seemed to shiver at what he saw there.

"I'm Dean Winchester. Your son. I lost my mom when I was four and was raised to hunt the supernatural. My job is to take care of Sammy. I've lost everyone that I have ever cared about, occasionally getting them back only to lose them again. I've been to Hell and faced the apocalypse. And now I'm here, in my four year old body but with thirty more years of experiences in my head."

The two continued to stare into each other's eyes for another moment. Dean tried to ready himself for the coming rejection, wondering why it always hurt. He should be used to it by now. His father's hands slid away from his face. One was placed between his shoulder blades while the other grasped the back of his head. Then Dean found himself pulled into his dad's arms. He was held tightly against the man's chest as a hand stroked through his short hair. And Dean was reminded of who his father had been before him mom's death. He hadn't been a perfect man. He'd been stubborn, fast to anger, yelled a bit too much, and would storm out of the house after every single argument. But he'd also spoiled Dean with toys, took him out to play, snuck him an extra cookie for dessert, and had let his sons know that they were loved in a million different little ways. That was the dad that held Dean now.

When the embrace ended and his father pulled away, Dean looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Thank you for saving her." His dad didn't have to specify what he was talking about. They both knew that the man was grateful not only that his wife hadn't had to die but that the awful picture of the future that Dean had painted would not come to pass.

"Thanks for believing me." Dean returned.

"Well, at this point I'd be a fool not to."

"And you've never been accused of being a fool." Dean confirmed.

"Well, you obviously haven't been talking to your mom."

Dean laughed. Then he looked down and his eyes widened. "Uh, Dad?"

"What's wrong?"

"The bathtub's overflowing."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. As I'm sure everyone knows the song Mary sings to Dean is 'Hey Jude' by the Beatles. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. And since I wasn't mean to little Dean at all in this chapter, perhaps you will all stop sending demons after me? Atleast until my next cliffhanger..._


	15. A Mostly Perfect Day

_**Author's Note: **Wow... no death threats this time! And some of you have even called off the demons and hellhounds you sent after me! I'm feeling the love. I want to thank Silvermoon of Forestclan, roy23, Araina Richardson, Hasmik Aharonyan, BulletsCoffeeFaith, snseriesfan, RoseDragon666, Stone120, FireChildSlytherin5, WitchOfDarkness13, PsychoPicasso, Invader Kiwi, elf, Chazioid, Wunjo, savannaharaiza5, Eliza Ghost, FireAngel5683, Star-Simple-Dust, dianaj2w, angel de acuario, Shorty22133, and guest for their wonderful reviews._

**Chapter Fifteen: A Mostly Perfect Day**

Mary fed another spoonful of pureed peaches to Sam, who promptly spit it back out. He pounded his tiny fists onto the tray and let out a little screech. Mary scooped up more of the mush and held it out to the baby. This time he batted the spoon away from his face. Mary sighed.

"I don't believe that Sam wants that food." Castiel spoke up.

Mary turned to face the angel who was standing off to the side of the table.

"No kidding?" She replied.

"Yesterday Dean fed him rice cereal and he seemed to prefer that."

"Rice cereal it is." Mary walked into the kitchen. Sam had just started on solid foods not long ago and they were still in the trial and error stage of figuring out what he liked. Maybe Dean would be able to help rule out some of the unwanted foods.

She mixed the dry flakes in with baby formula until it was the right consistency. Then she brought it into the dining room. Mary was about to sit down at the table again when she realized that John had been upstairs for quite a while. Her husband was probably almost done helping their son with his bath and they'd both be down for breakfast soon. She wasn't sure how she felt about John volunteering to assist Dean. He rarely bathed the children at all and Mary had figured that he'd still be avoiding the boy today. But he'd jumped at the chance to go to Dean and Mary had allowed it. She prayed that it had been the right choice. She didn't hear any arguing and screaming, so she figured that that was a good sign.

"Castiel, could you feed Sam for me? I need to start breakfast."

The angel looked startled. "You want me to feed the baby?"

"That's what I just asked."

"But… I have never fed an infant before."

"You put the food on the spoon and the spoon in his mouth. It's not rocket science, Castiel."

He looked at her for a moment. "Interesting."

"What?"

"I had always assumed that Dean got his attitude strictly from his father. It appears that I was wrong."

Mary smiled. "Was that an attempt at humor? If so, you've spent too much time with Dean."

"So I have been told. On several occasions." Castiel picked up the spoon and scooped up some food. He offered it to Sam, who looked at him somewhat distrustfully. But then, obviously deciding that the food was good no matter who was holding the spoon, the baby happily closed his mouth around it and swallowed.

Seeing that the angel had everything under control, Mary went into the kitchen. She turned the stove on to medium heat and placed a griddle over the two lit burners. Next, she mixed some eggs, milk, vanilla, brown sugar, and cinnamon together in a bowl. Then she dipped slices of bread into the mixture and dropped them onto the hot griddle, listening to them sizzle.

Mary had just used the spatula to remove the last slice of French toast from the stove when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She carried the platter of breakfast into the dining room and had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. Castiel's dress shirt and tie were splattered with baby food and he was wiping some from his cheek. Sam was holding the spoon and waving it in the air.

"I guess feeding a baby was a bit too hard for you." Mary commented.

"The task wouldn't have been difficult if Sam had cooperated."

"He's six months old. Being uncooperative is practically his job."

Castiel's response was cut off by John's voice as he tried to talk to Dean quietly while they entered the room.

"Just don't tell your mother."

"Don't tell me what?"

John looked at her with a somewhat guilty expression. "Nothing."

"He doesn't want you to know that he flooded the bathroom." Dean replied as he hopped up into his chair. "French toast! Awesome!"

"Thanks a lot Dean." John muttered. "Don't worry, honey. A little water got on the floor and we cleaned it up."

"I hope so, because it looks like Sam's going to need to use the tub next."

"Not to mention Cas." Dean chimed in. The boy put two slices of French toast on his plate and then drowned them in syrup.

Mary sat down and served both herself and John. She was pleasantly surprised that her husband and son seemed to be getting along. She wasn't sure what had happened but it was a relief. So much so that she decided not to bring up the fact that John had stayed out all day the previous day and hadn't arrived home until late. There was peace in the Winchester house and she wasn't going to do anything to disrupt it.

John went into the kitchen and came back a minute later with two cups of hot coffee. He placed one in front of her and sat down with the other.

"Hey, can I get one of those?" Dean asked.

"No." She and John both responded at the same time.

Dean made a face. "Not even a little?"

Mary shook her head. "Do you know what all this caffeine would do to you? We'd be scraping you off of the ceiling."

"And that's a bad thing?"

She smiled and shook her head again.

The Winchesters ate their breakfast in companionable silence, except for the occasional cooing and giggles from Sam, with an angel watching over them. It was strange, but nice. Mary hoped that the calm would last, but after the last couple of days, she seriously doubted that it would.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean followed his dad outside and to the Impala. The supplies that had been purchased the day before were still in the trunk. They were going to bring the stuff inside and finish up protecting the house. As he reached the car, Dean smiled.

"What's up?" His dad asked, glancing down at him.

"I love this car."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You gave her to me when I got my license. Got yourself a truck. I still have her. Well, I did… in the future. Had to rebuild her from scratch but she still ran great."

His father opened the trunk and began pulling out bags. "Good to know she'll last."

"Told you she would." Dean replied with a grin. His dad looked at him questioningly. "Well, Mom already figured it out, so I might as well tell you. Remember when you went to but that 1964 Volkswagen bus and some dude in a leather jacket by the name of Dean Van Halen told you to buy the 1967 Chevy Impala instead?"

"Yeah, but how do you… oh my God. That was… but how?"

"Cas. How else?"

His dad stared at him. "Why?"

"Long story, Dad. But yeah, that was me. Ten years ago for you, four years ago for me, and yet twenty-five years from now. Got a headache yet? I sure as hell do. Probably best not to think about it too hard. Just thank me for my awesome advice and we'll move on."

His dad shook his head. "If I remember correctly, your dad taught you about cars, so shouldn't the credit go to him?"

"Damn!" Dean exclaimed. "You had to bring that up."

They both laughed. Dean struggled to lift one of the large cans of paint up off the ground as his dad easily scooped up the other can, the two shopping bags, and the large bag of rock salt. This small body seriously sucked sometimes. As he dragged the heavy item to the front door, Dean heard a car slow as it passed by. A quick glance revealed a pick-up truck being driven by a thin man in his late forties. He looked harmless enough; well-dressed, clean-shaven, with thinning hair. But something about him made Dean shiver. The man smiled at Dean and waved as he drove off. If it was meant to be a friendly gesture, the dude had to seriously work on it.

Turning back to the house, the boy saw that his dad had just opened the front door. The small hunter hurried to catch up. Once inside, he placed the can down on the floor and locked the door. Dean wondered why he was so shaken by some guy driving a truck. Was it just his kiddo emotions getting to him again or was it his hunter's instincts?

"So, how much salt do we mix into the paint?"

"Huh?" Dean spun around to face his dad. "Oh, uh… well, a lot. We need enough in it so that everything we paint will be protected."

"But you're not going to do any mixing up here." His mom interrupted. "You'll get it all over my nice floor. Take it to the basement."

"Yes, dear." His dad replied.

"Yes, Mom." Dean responded at the same time.

Hours later, Dean stood on the stepstool in front of the bathroom sink, scrubbing the paint off of his hands. He was feeling much better now that the whole house was as protected as it was going to get. He'd considered bringing up the idea of a panic room like Bobby's but decided that that would be a project for a different day.

Hopping off the stool, Dean dried his hands and then tossed the towel onto the bathroom counter. He reached up to shut off the lights on his way out of the bathroom. It had been strange working with his father. The man was nothing like the person he'd become after the death of his wife. Well, maybe there were similarities, but he was much more open to discussion than Dean remembered. Of course, this time around Dean had more experience and his parents were acknowledging that fact by taking their cues from him. Dean absently wondered how long it would last. His dad was ex-marine and was used to running the house and would surely tire of taking orders from a four year old at some point. But for the moment, Dean would enjoy the calm that had settled on the Winchester household.

He walked past his dad who was on his way to get cleaned up and went downstairs. Cas was sitting on the couch with Sammy in the baby swing next to him. The television was on and both angel and baby were watching Sesame Street. Dean shook his head.

"Don't you already know your ABCs, Cas?"

"I believe this show is supposed to teach more than just the alphabet, Dean. But I don't understand why anyone would wish to subject small children to a show about monsters."

"They're friendly monsters." Dean shrugged as Cas arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, truthfully I don't get it either. And they wonder why kids get nightmares. I mean seriously, I see something green and furry pop outta a trashcan, I'm shooting the bitch right there."

"Dean!"

The boy turned his head to see his mom standing in the doorway. "What?"

"Watch your language around Sammy. If his first word is 'bitch', you are grounded for life."

"Got it."

At the dinner table, Dean's father cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"So, what happens next?"

"Dessert?" Dean suggested.

"You know what I mean. The house is protected, which is what we decided was the first step. So, what's next?"

Dean shrugged. "Not sure. I guess it depends a bit on the demons' next move. If they come after us, we fight. If they leave us alone, then we gotta find out what they're up to and go kick their asses."

"We will also have to participate in some of the hunts you went on the first time around. While other hunters will take care of some of them, there are those which will require you handle." Cas informed them.

"So, which are which?" Dean asked.

"We should study your father's journal. Together we can determine a course of action."

"My journal?" Dean's dad questioned.

"That book I put on your nightstand? I thought it was yours." His mom added.

"Well, it is now. Dad gave it to me."

"I kept a journal?"

"Yeah. You filled it with all the stuff you learned about the supernatural and info on hunts."

"I'd like to see it."

"No." Dean shook his head. He didn't want this version of his father 'meeting' the other version. Nothing good could come from it. "I mean, Cas and I are more familiar with the stuff, so it makes more sense for us to look through it."

His dad looked annoyed, but nodded. "Okay."

That had been too easy. Dean made a mental note to keep a close eye on the journal.

"So we plan." Mary summed up. "Sounds reasonable."

That night, Dean climbed into his bed and pulled the covers up to his chest. Cas sat on the edge of his bed and placed a hand on the boy's forehead. It had been decided that, until a permanent solution to Dean's nightmares was discovered, the angel would continue to be with Dean in his dreams to prevent the memories of Hell from overwhelming him once again. Dean's father stood by the foot of his bed, holding a sleeping baby Sammy and wished him goodnight. Then his mom stroked his hair and sang 'Hey Jude'. Her voice singing that song brought back so many wonderful memories and feelings that Dean thought he'd somehow ended up in Heaven. It was perfect. Everything was just perfect. Dean smiled at his family and closed his eyes. And for the first time since he was actually four years old, Dean Winchester drifted off to sleep feeling safe, content, and loved.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **See, not only did I give Dean a nice night, but I gave him an enjoyable day too! How much do you all love me right now? If only I wasn't planning what I'm planning... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	16. Conversations in the Night

_**Author's Note: **Hi, everyone! Here's another chapter for your entertainment, but first I want to thank roy23, Invader Kiwi, CoolBeena, Hasmik Aharonyan, Stone120, FireChildSlytherin5, RoseDragon666, X5EgSparks, elfinblue, savannaharaiza5, guest, FireAngel5683, PsychoPicasso, Silvermoon of Forestclan, snseriesfan, Eliza Ghost, Shorty22133, BranchSuper, jazzy2may, and Star-Simple-Dust for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Sixteen: Conversations in the Night **

John walked down the stairs after putting Sammy in his crib. He was tired and was tempted to go to bed, but his mind was racing. He had spent an entire day with his son and was trying to reconcile this new Dean with the one he'd raised the last four and a half years. There were a few minor similarities, sure, but the differences were startling. Dean still joked and laughed, but it wasn't the silly, carefree type that children usually displayed. He acted tough but there was a bit of vulnerability under it all and John wondered if that belonged to the adult, the kid, or both. Dean seemed fearless, yet haunted. Mature, yet juvenile. John wondered if Dean was this conflicted before being sent back into his four year old body or if it was purely due to his current condition. Either way, he was very aware that Dean was damaged and it was all his fault. Or it would've been… however that worked.

He couldn't deny the fact that if a demon had killed Mary that night, he would've wanted revenge. The idea that he'd drag his sons all around the country and raise them to kill things was something he really didn't want to believe but when he decided that Dean was telling the truth, he had had to accept the whole story. And now he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. After all, anything that his son could've grown up to be was now gone because of how he'd been raised. Of course, according to Castiel, even Heaven and Hell had Dean's life planned out for him. It seemed his boy would never have a chance at any type of real future. And how the hell was a father supposed to deal with that?

"Your head is going to explode."

"Then maybe my brain wouldn't hurt so much anymore."

Mary chuckled. "I don't think that's the best headache remedy."

She sat down next to him on the couch. John turned to face her.

"How are you even handling all of this?"

"Well, to be fair, I did know about the supernatural long before now. And I am sorry I lied to you about it."

John waved her off. "I'm not mad. Not really. I probably wouldn't have believed you without seeing it for myself anyhow."

"I didn't want you to see it. _I _didn't want to see it anymore."

"Guess we don't have a choice now, huh?"

"Guess not." She confirmed. They sat in silence for a moment. "It's Dean, isn't it? That's what's bothering you." It wasn't a question.

"He's… it's not right, Mary. You, me and Sammy all get a do-over and he doesn't. He gets Hell memories that can only be kept under control by an angel. And I know it's incredibly selfish, but I miss our Dean. The little guy that hasn't had to live through all that crap. He's gone. Thirty years gone."

"Trust me, I feel the same but this all could've turned out worse."

"I know. If not for Dean and his guardian angel, things would be much worse. But what do we do, Mary? How do we raise a thirty year old, traumatized kid?"

"With love. Because I get the feeling that that's what he needs."

"But he's so… tough. I feel like any gesture on my part will be rejected. I mean, he let me hug him and all but I feel like too much would make him uncomfortable."

"I don't think he's completely a grown-up, though. He reacts with the emotions of a child sometimes. He doesn't talk about it, but I think that Dean is caught in between his two ages. John, I think he's just as lost as we are on how to deal with this."

John nodded. "So we figure it out together, then."

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Castiel followed Dean through the amusement park. It was strange to see Dean as an adult after spending the day with him in his four year old body, but he supposed that since this was Dean's dream, the man could appear any way he wanted. He was surprised how much control Dean had over the dreamscape once Castiel himself pushed away the Hell memories that threatened to overwhelm the hunter.

"I thought we'd be returning to the bar."

"No way, Cas. New night, new location."

"Why an amusement park?"

"Why not?"

"It's crowded, noisy, and I'm not sure that all these rides are safe."

"Lighten up and have some fun. There's food, games, and the rides are awesome."

"Have you ever been to one of these?" Castiel questioned. He knew that Dean had to have some information to form this place in his mind but he also knew that his friend's childhood hadn't really left time for things like vacation spots. It was just as likely that this was all built on something Dean had seen on television.

"Sure. Dad and Mom took me here when I was three. And then I took a girl or two to different carnival's when I got older. And carnivals are pretty much just small versions of amusement parks." Dean got pensive for a moment. "I always figured Sammy and I would stop by this place one day, but the opportunity never came up."

Castiel wondered what the draw to these places was. The food looked to be greasy and very unhealthy, nobody seemed to be winning the games, and he was still convinced that if he were in the real amusement park rather than a dream version, there would be multiple deaths occurring on the rides. Why did people spend money to get on a ride that would drop them from several stories high? As much time as he'd spent around humans, Castiel supposed that there were some things that would remain a mystery.

Dean walked up to one of the game booths. From what Castiel could tell, the point of the game was to throw darts at balloons. But very few people were getting them to pop.

"This game doesn't appear to work very well."

"It's fixed, Cas. All carnie games are. See, the darts aren't as sharp as they should be, the balloons are under-inflated, and the board they're taped to is tilted slightly. Even expert marksmen have a hard time with these games. That's how these places make money. The prizes are cheap crap but still, if everyone won something, it wouldn't turn a profit." As he spoke, Dean grabbed a handful of darts and threw them. One, two, three, four, and five balloons popped. The man behind the counter handed a ridiculously large stuffed bear to the hunter. Dean grinned.

"How did you…"

"My dream, Cas. You think I'd play a game that I could lose at? You know what'll be awesome, though. If I can get Dad and Mom to bring me to a carnival and do this for real. How much would that freak the game operators out? "

Dean dropped his large prize on a bench as they walked by.

"You are leaving it there?"

"Can't take it outta my dream with me, can I?"

"No." Castiel wanted to talk with Dean about his Hell memories and why they were affecting him so severely, but seeing the excitement on his face ended that train of thought. There would be plenty of time for that discussion during the day. For now, the angel would just keep his friend company and hold the nightmares at bay.

"So Cas, what's up first? Freefall or rollercoaster?"

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Alastair stood across the street from the Winchester home and stared at the dark structure as though he could see through the walls and to the family inside. The family that had somehow killed Azazel and disrupted Lucifer's plans. And now Hell needed to find a way to get everything back on track. Which was why Alastair had found himself pulled away from his own rather enjoyable work to come up the this freezing cold place where he could no longer hear the beautiful cacophony of screams and cries of pain. He just wanted to get this over with and go back home. And he had a feeling that he'd found the key of the whole mess.

When he'd driven by the house earlier, he'd seen the boy turn to stare at him and there was something… off about the child. Alastair wished he could get closer to the boy to figure out what was different about him. Perhaps even open him up and take a look inside. But it would have to wait for the moment. The Winchester home was protected. With any luck, John Winchester, who also believed that there was something wrong with his son, would call him soon. The demon couldn't wait to get his hands on Dean Winchester. Either he'd find something in the child that would be the answer to Hell's little problem, or he'd use the child to get what was wanted from the parents. Both solutions worked for him. And it was so rare that he got a chance to work on a child…

"Tell me everything."

The female who had walked up besides him cringed at his tone of voice. Alastair smiled.

"Mary Winchester fought like the hunter she was raised to be. And John… I have no idea how he got his hands on the colt. They also had a knife that could kill us. They were very well prepared."

"And the other?"

"He was dressed up nicely and I got the sense of hidden power in him. But he merely stood in a doorway and watched the whole fight."

"No, not him. Although there must be something there as well. I'm asking of the child."

"He was… strange. He was scared, but not as terrified as a child should've been. And the way he talked. He spoke more like an adult than a mere kid. And a vulgar adult at that. And he called me Meg. Insisted that it was my new name." The woman pushed the long, dark hair back and out of her new host body's face.

"Tell me more."

"That's it." She shrugged.

Alastair glared at her. "This family is important in Lucifer's plans. Plans that will transform this planet into our paradise and lead to eternal torment for all of humanity. And you… you almost screwed everything up by killing them for something as petty as revenge."

"They killed my father…"

"Then he was as weak and pathetic as I always suspected him to be."

The female looked pissed but fear held her tongue.

Alastair continued. "Let me make this clear to you. You were rash and stupid and the only reason you aren't currently on my rack being taken apart for the next few centuries is because you encountered the family and may have some needed information. If that's not the case, say so now and we can head down below together. Or you can tell me more about Dean Winchester."

The terror that radiated off of her was delicious. "Well, uh… now that I think about it, it was the child who went upstairs and brought the weapons to his father. And I only saw from the corner of my eye, but I think he's the one who stabbed my brother."

"Brave for a small child."

"Well, he is a hunter's son."

"A retired hunter's son. And from what I know of hunters, even the active ones don't teach toddlers to hunt. This boy is… unique. Tell me, did you look him in the eye?"

"Well, maybe… I guess so. Why is that important?"

"What did you see?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. Alastair decided that if she repeated that gesture yet again, he'd break her shoulders so that she wouldn't continue to do so. "He seemed… wrong, somehow."

"You really are incompetent." Alastair sneered. "I suppose I will have to see for myself." He decided that if John Winchester didn't call soon, he'd have to find another body and try a different approach. And he'd keep trying until he finally met Dean face to face.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Now before you all send demons and hellhounds after me, just remember that I haven't let Alastair get his hands on Dean yet, he's just planning... surely that doesn't mean I deserve to be attacked...Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks._


	17. Party Time

**Author's**_** Note: **Hey everyone. I appreciate the lack of demons and hellhounds showing up at my door. And I'd like to thank if-llamas-could-fly, Araina Richardson, snseriesfan, FireChildSlytherin5, angel de acuario, Stone120, X5EgSparks, RoseDragon666, Musical Blossom's Strength, BalthazarMyAngel, Hasmik Aharonyan, Wunjo, FireAngel5683, BranchSuper, rivers13, roy23, elfinblue, Silvermoon of Forestclan, and Eliza Ghost for their wonderful reviews._

**Chapter Seventeen: Party Time **

"But why do I have to go?" Dean knew that his voice was dangerously close to being whiny, but he couldn't help it. He just had to try everything to get out of going, but his mom's stern look told him that he was screwed.

Over the last couple of weeks the Winchesters had fallen into new daily routine. They'd all get up and have breakfast together before Dean's father left for work. Then Cas and Dean would study the journal, making a list of all of the hunts that the Winchesters had taken part in the first time around. During breaks, Dean would play with Sammy and help take care of him. His mom would take care of her sons, cook, clean and train. She was determined to get her skills back into perfect shape. When John would get home, they'd all eat dinner and then Dean would teach them what he knew about hunting and help them to get prepared. Once it got late, Dean would bathe and then get ready for bed. He'd lie down and Cas would sit next to him and place a hand on his head. His parents would kiss him and wish him good night before his mom sung to him and he'd drift off to pleasant dreams where he and Cas would hang out in all different places until the morning. Dean found himself settling into this new life well, even feeling a little content. Sure, he was constantly having to dodge questions that he didn't want to answer and was trying to avoid certain conversations, but it was worth it to have his family together. Things were going pretty well. Until now.

"Dean, we've been over this. We agreed to go and I can't call to cancel."

"Why not?"

"Because we've avoided contact with the neighbors for almost three weeks and we don't need people to start asking questions."

"But a birthday party, Mom? Really?"

"He's a friend of yours and I've known his mother for years. If we don't go, they'll get concerned that something's wrong."

Dean sighed. "Can't we just tell 'em I'm sick?"

"Then Debbie will come over after the party to make sure that you're alright. And we'll have to go to dinner with them as soon as you're 'better'." It was his mom's turn to sigh. "Look, we'll only stay a couple of hours. Long enough for presents and cake and then we'll come home."

Dean bit his lip thoughtfully. "What kind of cake?"

His mom laughed and ruffled his hair. "Get your coat and we'll head out."

"Fine. But you owe me an extra pie on Thursday." Dean replied. He was actually looking forwards to Thanksgiving, which was only five days away. It had been forever since he'd had his mom's fresh baked turkey with all the trimmings and he planned on savoring every bite. Besides, it would be Cas's first time celebrating the holiday and Dean was looking forwards to forcing the angel to try all of the foods that were to be served.

Dean sat down on the floor and put on his sneakers, closing the velcro straps and then stood up. Man, did he miss his boots. But at least his mom had gone shopping and bought him some shirts that were more to his tastes and a few more pairs of jeans. Dean absolutely refused to wear corduroy pants. Today, he was wearing a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown plaid flannel shirt. Over that, he pulled on his blue winter coat. His mom made sure he put on a winter hat before stepping out the door.

As they walked the block and a half to the house where the party was being held, Dean kept looking over his shoulder. It had been quiet since Meg's attack on the Winchester home, but the small hunter didn't trust it. He had been okay as long as they were all in their protected home, but he panicked the first day that his dad had left for work and badgered the man into calling every hour. Then he'd just about had a heart attack when his mom had left him and Sam with Cas so that she could go out to the store. Letting her out of his sight had made him beyond nervous. And now, walking down the street with her, Dean felt that anxiety return. He tried to reassure himself that they'd be fine, but he knew that there was always a chance that something would happen. The boy felt marginally better when they reached their destination. The house wasn't protected, but he doubted that Meg would try to ambush a kid's birthday party. Really, who would go to one of these things by choice?

When they reached the front door, Dean's mom looked down at him sternly.

"Be on your best behavior."

"Always am."

"I mean it, Dean. If I get a single phone call from another parent saying that you taught their child a colorful word, you will not see the outside of your room until Thanksgiving." Dean smirked at that but then his mom continued. "And there will be no pie at all for you."

Dean nodded his agreement immediately. "Okay. Best behavior. Got it."

"Good." Then she knocked on the door.

It flew open to reveal a woman that Dean had all but forgotten. Debbie was a bit shorter than his mom and a little heavier, her long black hair was braided and far too much make-up adorned her face. And she was overly-friendly.

"Oh, Mary, it's so good to see you! How have you been? Good I hope. How's John? And your baby must be getting so big by now. What? Six months now, right? And oh, look at Dean! You've gotten so big. I remember when you were just a baby and look at you now. I love the new hair cut. Just so adorable. Come in, come in. The other kids are in the playroom already. Go join them. Mary, come on into the kitchen and we can catch up. It's been ages and I have so much to tell you."

If not for the threat of losing pie, Dean would've asked her how she could've survived that long without breathing. Instead, he trudged into the house and shed his coat, handing it to his mom. Then he stopped, before looking around himself. He tried to remember which way the playroom was, but the last thirty years had been busy and the house was only barely familiar. Luckily, his mom seemed to realize his dilemma and placed a hand on his back to give him a tiny push to the right. Dean threw her a grateful smile as he walked down the hall.

When he entered the room, Dean was tempted to turn around and run back out. He had no problem with kids. He actually got along well with them. But now, faced with a room full of five and six year olds, he really wanted an escape. Because he knew that he was expected to act like them and he couldn't even remember how he had been all those years ago. It was strange. He was physically the youngest in the room, but he just didn't know how to be a carefree child.

"Dean! Hey, come on in! Sit down. We're playing He-Man." Mark, the birthday boy, greeted.

"Did you get your hair cut?" Another boy asked.

"Nah, I just woke up one mornin' and it was shorter." Dean replied with a shrug. The boy gave him a sour look.

Dean sat down on the floor with the others. There were eight other boys gathered around a pile of Masters of the Universe action figures. Dean grabbed one at random and looked at it. Skeletor. The lamest looking evil skeleton ever. He didn't have any more time to look at it though, because one of the other boys snatched it from his hands.

"I get to be Skeletor. You're just a baby, so you can be one of the dumb characters."

Dean looked at the boy that was probably six years old. He was the tallest and the fattest of the kids and if Dean remembered correctly, he was a bully. But he was also Mark's cousin and thus had been invited.

"Robert, you don't gotta be mean about it." Mark commented.

"It's okay." Dean insisted, fighting the urge to punch the fat jerk in the face. "Didn't want that one anyway."

"See, the baby didn't want it anyway. He's just gonna go sit in the corner and suck his thumb."

Dean rolled his eyes. He wondered if it was wrong of him to picture the kid facing off against a wendigo.

Another boy snickered and Dean tried his best to ignore it. He promised his mom he'd behave and he doubted that she'd consider giving another boy a bloody nose to be good behavior.

"I'll be He-Man!" A skinny boy with longish red hair declared.

Robert snorted. "You look more like Teela, girly-boy."

While Dean couldn't deny it, he was a bit pissed at the bully when he saw the other boy bite his lip and turn red. This Robert kid was a real douche-bag.

After about an hour of playing, and Dean mostly keeping to himself, one of the kids suggested playing hide-and-seek. The others agreed and a boy with thick glasses and a dorky shirt volunteered to be 'it'. Robert made it known that he was the only one who'd be 'it' by punching the other kid in the arm pretty hard. And thus it was decided who would try to find the others. They only had a minute to hide.

As they scrambled to get out of the playroom, Robert 'accidentally' bumped into the red-headed boy and tripped Dean. Or at least he tried to. Dean saw the foot sticking out and brought his own down on the boy's ankle.

"Ow, watch it, you little baby."

Dean leaned in close and spoke in a low, threatening tone. "Call me 'baby' or tease any of the other kids here one more time and a bruised ankle will be the least of your worries, got it?"

Robert was about to reply when he looked Dean in the eyes. His own eyes widened and he nodded before skulking back into the playroom to count.

Dean went up the stairs and began checking the rooms for a good hiding spot. He hoped to remain hidden until it was time for cake. He'd spent his entire adult life lying and pretending to be someone other than himself, but found that it was tiring right now. He liked being with his family where he could just be Dean Winchester.

The little hunter opened the door to what looked like a sewing room. There was a bay window with a padded seat in front of it, a spinning wheel (really, who had one of those?), a sewing machine, mannequins that were partially dressed in homemade clothes (creepy as all hell), a large wardrobe, a rocking chair, a table, and a few large sewing kits. But nowhere to hide. Unless…

Dean walked over to the bench seat and lifted the top off. There was plenty of room to hide in there… or there would be if it wasn't packed with sewing supplies. With a groan, Dean replaced the top. He'd have to move fast if he didn't want to be caught outside of a hiding place.

Dean turned to leave the room and stopped dead. There was a man standing there looking down at him. Dean was fairly certain that it was Robert's father, Debbie's brother-in-law.

"Uh, sorry if I'm not supposed to be in here. We're playing hide-and-seek and I needed a spot to hind in."

"That's not why I'm here, Dean."

"If this is about what happened between your son and me, he started it. I was just…"

"I don't care about that. I'm here to see you." The man looked Dean over in a way that creeped him out.

"You come any closer and I'll scream."

"Good. I enjoy hearing the sounds of screams."

"Dude, you're sick, you know that?" Dean backed up, away from the man. "I'm gonna call for help and get your pervy ass in trouble now."

Before he could shout, the man grinned at him. "You do that. And I'll skin whoever comes in here alive. Maybe it'll be your mommy. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Dean continued to back away until his back hit the wall. The man stepped towards him and pulled out a nasty looking knife. Dean's heart was beating way too fast. Then the man's eyes seemed to roll back as they turned white. He laughed a quiet, yet sadistic laugh.

Dean gasped in surprise and fear. "Alastair."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I'd like to take this moment, before you all send evil creatures my way, to remind you all that I have not yet had Alastair lay a finger on Dean. I hope you all enjoyed and please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think. _


	18. Terror and Pain

_**Author's Note: **And I'm back for a third update this week! I'm awesome! Actually, you are even more awesome for reading this and reviewing, favoriting, and following it (and for not sending demonic creatures to kill me for my cliffhanger). Now I want to thank Stone120, lobita, FireChildSlytherin5, Geu23, RoseDragon666, Invader Kiwi, vixxster2492, snseriesfan, smiling-is-my-favorite-pastime, savannaharaiza5, Hasmik Aharonyan, Wunjo, sarago12, FireAngel5683, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Eliza Ghost, roy23, jazzy2may, WitchOfDarkness13, Shorty22133, dhh, and BranchSuper for their wonderful reviews._

**Chapter Eighteen: Terror and Pain **

Dean felt his blood turn cold as his heart beat wildly and his breath caught in his throat. His tiny body began to shake uncontrollably as memories of the monster before him came flooding into his brain. The monster who'd taken him apart, then put him back together only to take him apart again in an even more agonizing way. The monster who'd broken him completely. Decades worth of torture tried to push their way into his forethoughts but Dean fought against them. He needed to remain clearheaded to deal with Alastair. The boy tried to swallow back the sheer terror but only partially succeeded. The last time he'd faced off against a powerful demon he'd been killed. And Alastair scared him a hell of a lot more than Azazel.

"You know my name? How?" The demon's eyes flicked back to brown as he scratched at his host body's beard.

Dean shook his head but could not find his voice. His childish emotions made the fear he typically felt around Alastair multiply by a thousand. It took all of his control not to hyperventilate or pee himself.

"Speak, boy. How do you know me?"

Dean forced his voice to come out and tried to sound tough. "I saw your face on America's Most Unwanted." It probably would've sounded so much cooler if his words hadn't come out in a shaky whisper.

"Oh, a funny child. I like funny. It'll be so humorous to carve your tongue out and see what jokes you can tell then."

Dean felt what was left of the blood in his face drain away. He knew from experience that that was not an empty threat. But he had to remain strong. He couldn't let Alastair know the truth. He and his family had decided that it would be far too dangerous to let either side of the apocalypse war know about Dean. And no matter what, he couldn't allow himself to make any noises that would bring anyone else into the room with the sadistic demon. Yeah, he was totally screwed. But then he remembered something. The boy reached into his pocket and started unscrewing the cap on the small bottle he kept in there.

Alastair stared into Dean's eyes, looking for something. Dean wasn't sure what he was trying to see, but the hunter kept his expression as blank as his fear would allow. He knew that his eyes could give him away and wasn't about to let it happen now.

Alastair stepped even closer, studying the knife in his hand. "So, really now. No secrets between us. What is so different about you? How do you know the things you know?"

"Not everyone's a dumbass like you."

"Cute. But how cute do you think you'll be when I'm through with you?"

"Still cuter than you." Dean declared as he pulled the opened bottle of holy water from his pocket and splashed it on the demon.

Alastair hissed in pain and dropped the knife to grab at his smoking face. Dean leaped forwards to snatch the weapon up but he was still a foot away when he was grabbed from behind. Damn, Alastair moved fast.

The demon possessed man held Dean tightly in one arm and grabbed the boy's much smaller arm with his other hand.

"Tell me how you know me or I snap your bone like a twig."

"I… I, uh… I saw you in a dream." Dean stammered out. It was partially true.

"No. You're not psychic. And that also wouldn't explain why you act and talk the way you do or how you got your hands on demon killing weapons. So, I call you a liar."

Dean had no time to think as a hand covered his mouth and the other bent his tiny arm in a direction that it was never meant to go. A loud cracking sound rang out and Dean screamed in pain. His cries were muffled by Alastair's hand but were still hardly quiet. Dean slumped forwards, sobbing in agony. Four year old bodies just did not have high thresholds for pain.

He heard footsteps outside the door to the room and prayed that it wasn't his mother. While he wanted nothing more than to be rescued, he didn't want to see what his former torturer could do to his mom. Alastair heard the sound as well.

"I guess this meeting will be cut short. But don't think that this is over. Next time, we'll meet somewhere more private and I'll have all the time I want with you. So you should really contemplate telling me the truth, boy. Because I'll get it one way or another. And while I prefer the hard way, I doubt you'll feel the same."

The door opened and a child's voice spoke up. "If you want to hide well, you shouldn't make so much noise. I could hear you… Dad? What are you doing?"

Through his tears, Dean could see Robert standing just inside the room. "Run!" he tried to say, but the large hand covering his mouth drowned out his warning.

"Just stay there for a moment, Robert. I'll be right with you."

The boy looked confused. "Why are you holding Dean? Is he in trouble?"

"You can say that." Alastair replied to his host body's son. Then he picked Dean up off the floor and threw him.

Dean felt himself sail through the air and crash through the window. He fell from the second story and landed hard on the front lawn. He wasn't sure whether or not he cried out in pain but then the world faded to black.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Robert stood staring at his dad. The man was tough, sure, and not above paddling his son's butt with a large metal spoon when he got into trouble, but he'd never seen his father purposefully injure anyone. Until now.

Sure, Dean was really annoying. He was far too little to be invited to a birthday party for a six year old and Robert had instantly pegged him as one of the easy targets. Well, he had until the child had threatened him. Normally, a threat from a baby would've been met with a laugh and a punch to the stomach, but there was something… dangerous in Dean's eyes. So Robert had backed off. He'd wanted to find a way to get even with the little boy but he certainly hadn't wanted to see the kid thrown out a window.

"D… Dad? Why did you…"

"I didn't." His father turned around and smiled at him. The smile was not his father's. It was cold and cruel and just plain scary.

"But I saw you…"

"You did it."

Robert shook his head in denial. He could hear footsteps running up the stairs. His dad grabbed him and spun him around to face the door and then crouched down at eye level with him. Then the man's eyes turned pure white. Robert wanted to scream but no sound would come out when he opened his mouth. It was like a nightmare. The worst nightmare the boy had ever had.

"You found Dean sitting near the window and pushed him. He accidentally fell back and crashed through it. Say anything different and I will break every bone in your body and paint your skin red with your own blood."

Robert began to sob in terror. The door flew open and he raised his teary eyes to see a crowd of both adults and children. Dean's mom was at the front. He looked back at whatever his father had become. The 'man' smiled at him and winked.

"What did you do, son? What happened?" He demanded in an urgent tone, his eyes once again normal.

"I… I pushed Dean. He fell out the window by accident." He managed to choke out.

Robert heard gasps and then the crowd was divided between those scrambling to get downstairs and outside and those staring at him in shock. Robert felt as though he'd pass out as tears continued to run down his face.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Mary had heard a crash from upstairs and instinctively knew that it was Dean. Something had happened to her baby again. She took off running, easily taking the lead in the race to get up the stairs. Children and parents followed her up and then she stopped, listening to see if she could figure out where the sound had come from. She heard a muffled voice and crying coming from a room. Mary threw the door open and looked into the room.

Debbie's nephew stood there, crying and with a look of terror on his chubby face. He looked to her and then to his father who was crouched before the child, his back to the door. The man asked his terrified son what had happened and the boy confessed to pushing Dean out the window.

Mary felt her heart stop at that statement. She'd seen the broken window upon entering but hadn't paid it much attention, instead focusing on the clearly distraught child. But now, that pane of broken glass was one of the most upsetting things she'd ever seen. They were on the second floor. Her son had fallen through a second story window.

Without wasting another second, Mary pushed her way through the crowd and took off back down the stairs. She prayed that her boy would still be alive. Castiel's confession that he had to keep low key made it clear that he wouldn't be able to solve all of the Winchester's problems with his angelic powers. He'd also stated that the only reason he'd been able to bring Dean back that night was because his soul had not yet been collected by a reaper. If he'd already reached heaven, Castiel would've been unable to help. Mary couldn't stand the thought of losing her first born son.

She reached the front door and slammed it open. Mary jumped down the three front steps and ran to her right. Then she froze. Dean lay crumpled in a heap on the front lawn. His left arm was at a strange angle and she could see the white of bone sticking out through the bleeding flesh of his forearm. Glass shards clung to his clothes, stuck in his skin, and littered the grass around his small, broken body. There was a stream of blood running down his face and he was far too still. The thought that he could be dead got her moving again.

"Call an ambulance!" She shouted as she ran to drop down next to her son, just like that awful night weeks ago. She ignored the pain caused by the glass shards that dug into her knees and legs. "Dean? Oh baby, can you hear me?" She leaned over and saw his skinny chest rise and fall. He was breathing. Oh, thank God. Dean was still alive.

Tears came to her eyes as she gently wiped at the blood on his head to see where it was coming from. There was a long gash on the right side of his forehead, just above his eye. He made a small moaning noise but there was no other indication that he was conscious to what was going on around him. Mary knew better than to try and move him. She didn't want to even think about the possibility of spinal damage, but it was a consideration and moving him could worsen any internal injuries.

Mary wished that she could call for Castiel to come and heal her son but knew that she couldn't. Using his powers would be like a beacon shining to all of their supernatural enemies. Also, there was Sam to consider. Mary didn't buy for a single moment that Dean had been accidentally pushed out a window. He'd been attacked and Robert had either done it while being possessed or had been frightened into going along with the lie by whatever had hurt Dean. In any case, John was at work and it was far too dangerous to have Castiel leave Sam alone or bring him here.

So Mary sat in the front lawn of her neighbor's house, stroking a hand through her son's blood-coated hair as she listened to the sound of an ambulance's siren getting closer. And she continued to pray that Dean would make it through this. And in the back of her mind she swore vengeance against whatever monster had injured her baby boy.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I have painted devil's traps, left salt circles, and stocked up on holy water knowing that this chapter will spell my doom. But before you all try and kill me for what I've done, please remember that dead men do not write stories and I doubt you all want the story to end here... so please spare my life... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. PLease leave your death threats... I mean reviews and let me know what you think. Thanks._


	19. Healing the Damage

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! I am still alive and writing! I want to thank Stone120, Eliza Ghost, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Hasmik Aharonyan, Geu23, if-llamas-could-fly, TheWinchestersBadGirl, lobita, savannaharaiza5, roy23, RoseDragon666, vixxster2492, smiling-is-my-favorite-pastime, FireChildSlytherin5, snseriesfan, BranchSuper, FireAngel5683, guest, Shorty22133, Supervillegirl, Vampy, elfinblue, and Star-Simple-Dust for their awesome reviews. And now, on with the story! _

**Chapter Nineteen: Healing the Damage **

The last couple of hours were a blur. Mary had rode in the ambulance with Dean and listened to the paramedics shouting medical terms back and forth at each other. She'd decided long ago that medical professionals came up with their own language so that they could talk in front of patients and family without them knowing a damned thing that was being said.

When they reached the hospital, her son was whisked away and she was told to sit and wait. And fill out paperwork, of course. Then she called John at work. He assured her that he would be right there and would call Castiel. Mary told him to tell the angel to stay put with Sam for the moment. As soon as she hung up the phone, a doctor approached her with consent forms that she needed to sign so that they could operate on Dean. Shock was setting in as she listened to him mention using metal plates and screws after they set the compound fracture, a possible spinal injury, and internal bleeding. The tears in her eyes blurred her signature as she handed the clipboard back to the doctor and fell back into the hard plastic chair. She was almost ready to call Castiel and tell him to get here and heal Dean, caution be damned, when John came rushing into the waiting room. He'd held her and murmured empty promises that Dean would make it, that he was a tough kid and would be just fine. And while Mary knew that John didn't know any more than she did on what would happen to their son, his voice and comforting hug had helped to calm her.

And now they sat in silence waiting for word on Dean's condition. Mary had always hated waiting and this was the longest wait of her life.

"Family of Dean Winchester?"

"Yes, that's us." Mary jumped to her feet in front of the doctor. He was a middle-aged man, just starting to get some grey in his short black hair. He was tall, but not intimidating. His smile was friendly as he held out a hand to shake theirs.

"I'm Dr. Wayne. I'm in charge of your son's case."

"Yes, how is he?"

"Well, we just moved him to his own room in the ICU. He's an incredibly lucky boy. A fall like that could've resulted in a far worse condition. Let me start with the worst injury, which was his left arm. He received an open compound fracture, which means that the bone was severed completely and was protruding from the skin. The pieces were displaced, which required surgery to realign. We needed to use an internal fixation, in this case both a small metal plate and screws, to hold the pieces in place. The limb is incased in a plaster cast that he will need to wear for at least four to six weeks. Now, the positioning of the fixations shouldn't impede bone growth, but we will need to keep an eye on it as he gets older. If there are complications or it causes him pain, he will need further surgeries. Luckily, that is his only broken bone. He also had mild internal bleeding that was easily fixed and a small hairline fracture on his spine. But it's unlikely to cause any problems. There were a few lacerations caused by the broken glass that required stitches. The only other concern is the head injury. Dean needed nine stitches to close the cut above his right eye. There does not appear to be any bleeding or swelling of the brain, so it is unlikely that he will suffer from any significant brain trauma. However, we are a bit concerned that he has not yet regained consciousness. He's not in any danger of coma, but instead appears to be in a deep sleep. He did suffer from a seizure, though, so we'll have to keep an eye on that and run more scans after he wakes up. We have him on anti-biotics to prevent and fight off any infections. You can go up and see him now. He's in room I-4. That's up on the second floor. Do you have any other questions?"

Both Winchesters shook their heads. Mary was trying to process everything she'd just been told. As soon as the doctor was out of earshot, she turned to John.

"Seizures? He's unconscious. You don't think he's dreaming, do you? Last time he slept without Castiel's help his memories gave him seizures. Oh, god. He could be stuck in Hell in his dreams right now."

"I'll get Castiel here now. You go to Dean."

Mary nodded and took off to the elevators. She rode one up to the second floor and then walked as quickly as possible to the entrance to the intensive care unit. After passing through the glass doors, Mary walked to the fourth room, took a deep breath and entered. Nothing could've prepared her for what she saw.

Dean lay on a hospital bed that looked much too large for his tiny body. His skin was pale and there was an IV line running into his right hand. Oxygen was being fed to him through his nose and monitors beeped out a steady rhythm. His left arm was in a bright blue cast. A large white bandage was taped to the boy's forehead. All together, he just didn't look like Dean. Not at all.

Her son moaned pitifully in his sleep and shifted. If he weren't so injured, he'd probably be thrashing around. Mary was at his side in an instant.

"Hey, sweetie. It's okay baby, Mommy's here. You're going to be okay." She carefully took his right hand in her own and held it tightly but gently. At that moment she forgot that he was a thirty-something year old in a child's body. All she could see was her little boy suffering.

She was still reassuring him moments later when Castiel appeared in the room beside her, holding a sleeping Sam.

"He's dreaming." She told him, her tone pleading. She knew that the angel couldn't risk using the power it would take to heal her son, not to mention the stir it would cause for Dean to miraculously be in perfect condition, but he could at least stop the Hell nightmares.

Castiel looked down at the boy and nodded. He handed the baby to her and then placed a hand on Dean's forehead. Mary held her breath as she waited.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Castiel appeared in the torture room once again. The hideous true form of Alastair hovered over a table. As the angel got closer, he could see that Dean was strapped down on the table, dressed in only a pair of boxers, struggling against the bonds to no avail. He was already cut up pretty badly, blood running freely down his torn and tattered skin. Castiel cringed at the sight of his best friend in such a state.

"Leave him alone." Castiel ordered, just as he had the last time he'd had to help stop one of these nightmares. But this time, nothing happened.

Alastair placed the large serrated knife down and picked up a small blowtorch.

"Now, Dean. This may hurt a bit." He laughed a nasty, sadistic laugh.

"Stop it." Castiel commanded. Still, the nightmare continued.

The demon turned on the flame and held it to Dean's leg. The man screamed in agony. The angel knew that with that small flame, it would take hours for Alastair to finish burning Dean. He couldn't let that happen. Dean didn't deserve any of this. He never had. Castiel often wished that he'd been able to extract Dean from Hell long before the forty years that it had taken. But he knew that the others had not sent him into the pit in time since they had needed Dean to be broken. And now, all the angel could do was try and prevent Dean from having to relive the horrors he'd experienced down there.

Castiel stepped forward and went to grab the demon, but his hand went right through Alastair. But then, the angel had pretty much expected that. He needed to get Dean to hear him.

"Dean. You need to listen to me. You are dreaming. I pulled you from Hell long ago. None of this is real any more."

The small flame traveled up the man's bare leg and he screamed again as the skin bubbled, blackened, and pealed away. Alastair kept the torch in place until even the bone was burnt before moving it up further. Dean struggled more, but still could not get free.

"Dean, you need to pay attention to me." Castiel tried again to be heard, but the tormented hunter merely cried out in pain. The angel stood there watching his friend being tortured, knowing that there was nothing that he could do.

With a thought, Castiel backed out of Dean's dream and rejoined the Winchesters.

When the angel opened his eyes, John was standing next to Mary holding the infant Sam. The boys' mother was sitting in a chair holding Dean's hand, tears in her eyes. When Castiel took his hand off of Dean, both parents looked at him questioningly.

"Is he going to wake up now?" Mary asked hopefully.

"No."

"Then why aren't you with him?" John questioned a bit harshly. "Won't the memories overwhelm him if you're not there?"

"Yes. But I was unable to help him this time."

"What do you mean?" Mary was clearly upset.

"I do not have any power in a human's head other than what I am granted. It's an angel rule. We need consent to do anything. For taking a vessel, we need direct consent. The host must know our intent and agree to it. But to cause any change in a person's dream, we only need implied consent."

"What does that mean?" John demanded.

"It means that the person has to acknowledge that I am there and not tell me to leave. By allowing me to remain, the person is giving permission to manipulate the dreamscape. In Dean's case, as soon as he recognizes that I am with him, I can push the memories of Hell away which allows him to take control of his own dream."

"So what's the problem?"

"He does not hear me this time. I tried but I cannot reach him and without his consent, direct or implied, I have no power in his head."

"So what can you do for him?" The look on Mary's face told him that she already knew the answer.

"Nothing."

"What?" John thundered. "You mean my boy is suffering and the mighty angel can do nothing to help him? Then what good are you?"

"John…" Mary began.

Castiel cut her off. "I can do nothing, but perhaps you can."

"What do you mean?"

"He was so lost in his memory that he could not see or hear me. But perhaps he will be able to acknowledge his parents."

"But I've been trying to talk to him." Mary protested.

"I don't mean from out here." Castiel informed her. "I can take your consciousnesses into Dean's head with me and you can try to get through to him in there."

"In his head?"

"Yes. But I warn you that it will not be an easy thing for you to witness. He is at the moment being tortured mercilessly and is in quite a bit of pain. And it is likely that he does not want you to see him like this."

"That doesn't matter. If we can help him, we will." Mary declared.

Castiel had expected that answer. Dean's parents obviously cared deeply for him and the angel knew that they would do whatever it took to assist him.

John nodded his agreement but then had a question. "But what about Sammy?"

Castiel took the baby from his arms and laid him down on the bed next to Dean. "He can sleep here for the few minutes that we are in Dean's mind. I will know if anyone comes near us, so he will be perfectly safe."

This seemed to placate both parents.

"So, what do we do?"

"Just hold onto my hand as I make contact with your son's mind. Then we will be there. Once inside, all we need to do is make Dean aware of us and then I can push away the nightmares and wake him. But do not try to stop anything that is happening. It is not real and you will have no powers that Dean doesn't grant you."

"I understand." Mary replied.

"Got it." John answered.

"Good. Then take my hand. It's time to once again pull Dean from Hell."

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Hope you all enjoyed. Next up, Dean's parents get to see Hell... sort of... Anyway, please leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks._


	20. To Hell and Back

_**Author's Note:** And here we are at chapter 20! And in less than two months... I just can't stop writing this because: a) I'm having so much fun... b)You guys have been so incredibly supportive(thanks!)... c) I'm afraid that if I take too long to update, one of you will track me down and end me... Anyways, I want to thank Ayumu Narumi, FireAngel5683, Stone120, Chazioid, lobita, RoseDragon666, roy23, Hasmik Aharonyan, numb3rs mystery, smiling-is-my-favorite-pastime, Vampy, savannaharaiza5, Silvermoon of Forestclan, jazzy2may, Eliza Ghost, WitchOfDarkness13, BranchSuper, aisarete, FireChildSlytherin5, snseriesfan, Shorty22133, and Lindsey for their awesome reviews and thanks to all following and favoriting this. And now... on with the show! _

**Chapter Twenty: To Hell and Back**

John Winchester blinked in surprise. It was one thing to know that an angel was going to take you into your son's mind so that you could rescue him from his memories of Hell, but it was another to suddenly find yourself transported from a hospital room to a torture chamber. He was no longer looking down at his injured four year old sleeping restlessly in a bed. Now there was a young man strapped down to a table being burned with some sort of torch by a… a thing. The creature was hideous looking and the whole sight made John feel ill. The young man (Dean, it was Dean as an adult) pulled against the restraints as the skin on his hip was burned away. The fabric on the pair of boxers he was wearing melted to his flesh as he let out a scream of anguish. There was blood all over his torn up body and John saw tears leaking from his eyes. He was about ready to rush the monster and pull him away from this grown-up version of his son when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You cannot affect anything here until Dean acknowledges you." Castiel reminded him.

John turned to see the angel standing there next to Mary. Her eyes were filled with horror and tears as she watched the same gruesome torture he'd just witnessed. Dean's scream rang out once again. John spun back around to see the monster move the flame up to his son's stomach. While he understood what Castiel was saying, part of him was wishing for nothing more than the opportunity to get his hands on the creature that had caused his boy so much pain.

"So, Dean. How long do you really think you can hold out? You're far too weak and you know it. Everyone knows it." The thing that was burning Dean mocked. "Isn't that what your daddy always told you? You were never good enough. Why do you think he left you so much? Because you're a pathetic waste of space. Sam knew it too. Left you as soon as he got the chance. He's up there right now, living his life the way he chooses, thrilled to be rid of the useless, weak brother he'd always been stuck with."

Dean shook his head in denial, but his expression made it obvious that he believed every word spoken. John wasn't sure what to think. He prayed that the creature was lying, that he himself had never said anything close to the words now spoken. But hadn't Dean himself admitted that he'd been left alone often? If that part was true, then maybe the rest was as well. But how could any version of himself ever say such things? No, now was not the time to think about it. Now was the time to stop this torture and help his son.

"Dean, don't listen to it, buddy." He shouted.

"We're here for you, baby." Mary chimed in as they both walked right up to the table that their son was strapped to.

John wrinkled his nose against the stench of blood and burned flesh. He tried not to see all the damage that was inflicted on the young man that his son had grown up to become. How anyone could survive this with their sanity intact was a mystery. Whatever that creature was, it was wrong. Dean wasn't weak. He was definitely the strongest person that John had ever known.

"Dean, this monster isn't real. This is a memory, son. And you're stronger than it." John wanted to grab a hold of Dean and shake him back into reality but that wasn't possible.

"You're not in Hell anymore, sweetie. Castiel got you out. You're back with us. Please come back to us."

"Come on, Dean. You can do it." John coaxed. Then he said something he was beginning to think that Dean had hardly ever heard come from his mouth. "I love you, buddy."

A confused look replaced the agony on the young man's face. He looked over at them and his eyes grew wide. "Dad? Mom?"

"Yes, we're here." Mary replied.

"I'm here as well, Dean." Castiel spoke up, coming to stand behind them.

"Cas? But… but what…"

And that was apparently all that the angel needed. The creature that had been torturing Dean disappeared as did the straps holding their son down. As he sat up, the wounds on his body also vanished. John felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Mary stepped forwards and threw her arms around Dean. She held him tight as he sat on the table looking around the room. The young man leaned into his mother's embrace as he shivered violently and blinked back tears. His eyes met John's and then the father saw recognition flash through them as he figured everything out.

Dean stiffened and pulled away a little, clearly uncomfortable with his mom hugging him while he was a barely dressed adult. When Mary stepped back, Dean hopped off the table and closed his eyes. Suddenly they were all standing in their living room and Dean was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt, a dark blue flannel shirt, a leather jacket, and boots. He went from embarrassment to anger in the blink of an eye.

"What the freakin' hell, Cas? Why did you bring my parents here? How did you even think that it was remotely okay to let them see that?"

"It was necessary, Dean."

"Why? So that they could know… never mind. Just… I can't…" Dean threw his hands up in frustration.

"Dean, Castiel couldn't help you. You weren't responding to him. He needed us to get through to you so that the memories would stop." John explained.

"Oh." There was an awkward pause.

"I believe it was due to the trauma you suffered combined with how deeply you were engrossed in the nightmare." Castiel added. "I figured that you would be able to sense your parents in your dream and then be able to recognize me as well. Once you did, I was able to help push away the memories."

"And you're sure this was the only way." Dean challenged.

"Unless you wanted to remain in your nightmare."

"Okay, yeah, not really an option. But still…" The young man looked over at John again. He seemed extremely embarrassed.

"Son, it's okay…"

"No, Dad, it's not. You weren't supposed to see that. Ever."

"Dean…" Mary started only to be cut off.

"Not right now, Mom. I can't… I can't talk about this. Please."

Mary nodded sadly. John wanted to press but he could tell that his son was about to break down and he couldn't do that to him. Not after everything he'd just been through. So he nodded as well. Dean looked relieved.

John took a moment to study his grown up son. He definitely took more after Mary with looks. His hair was short and spiky, his skin pale and he still had some freckles. He was a good looking guy, lean and athletic. But his large, green eyes were haunted and it was no wonder considering all that he'd been through in his life. John had just seen a few seconds of the years that Dean had experienced in Hell and he felt as though he'd be haunted by it forever too.

"So, What now?" Dean broke the silence that had fallen over the group.

"Now you wake up." Mary stated. "The doctors are getting concerned."

"Doctors? What happened?"

"We were hoping that you could tell us." John informed him.

"He won't remember until he wakes." Castiel piped up. "When I pushed back his memories, that also included the memory of the incident. Thinking on it too hard while in his dream may lead to his reliving it."

"Well, let's wake the hell up then." Dean ordered.

"Alright." Castiel agreed.

And then the living room was replaced by the hospital room once more.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean opened his eyes and blinked against the harsh white lights. It took him only a few seconds to realize that he was in a hospital. His arm was throbbing and his head was splitting and all together he felt like crap. He turned his head to see his mom sitting next to him, holding his right hand. His father stood next to her and behind him was Cas. They were all looking at him with such pathetic looks on their faces that Dean assumed that he must have one foot in the grave. But then he remembered. They had seen him at his lowest. They had seen him in Hell. No wonder they were looking at him as though he were the most wretched thing on the face of the earth. Dean averted his gaze when he felt the tears welling in his eyes and he found Sammy sleeping on the bed next to him. He absently reached down to stroke the baby's head. The little guy cooed and nuzzled into Dean.

"Dean? Son?" It was his dad's voice and it was filled with such concern that Dean felt sick to his stomach. His father had seen it. He'd seen how weak and pathetic Dean really was. Now he'd be disgusted with him all over again. Dean had known that their nice relationship over the past couple of weeks had been too good to last.

"How do you feel?" His mom asked.

"'Kay." It came out as a barely audible whisper.

"Are you in pain?"

"No." He lied.

"Liar." His dad accused. "Let me ask this way; do you need me to call the doctor in?"

"No."

"What happened, Dean?" His mom questioned.

Dean closed his eyes as he tried to remember why he was lying in a hospital bed with his arm in a bright blue cast and his head feeling like it would fall off at any moment. He was at a party… he was playing hide and seek… he was in a room… then someone… Alastair! Alastair had threatened him, broke his arm, and thrown him from a window. And he said he'd be back for him. Alastair was going to capture him and torture him and break him all over again. No. No, he couldn't do it again. He couldn't.

Dean felt his breaths become labored and dark spots began to dance in front of his eyes. He became lightheaded as visions of what the demon could do to him in this little body ran through his head.

"Dean! Son, come on, you have to breathe. Calm down and take a deep breath or you'll pass out, buddy." Dean tried to figure out why his dad's voice was coming to him from so far away. Hadn't the man been right next to him?

"Baby, please calm down. It's okay. You're safe."

Dean tried to calm himself, he really did. But it was like trying to swim upstream through rapids. He felt his dad pull him into a sitting position and rub circles on his back while his mom ran her hand through his hair. They were both whispering reassurances to him. Then he looked up to see Cas standing by his bed too. The angel placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"We'll keep you safe, Dean."

Dean nodded as he took a deep breath and felt the oxygen fill his lungs. The urge to pass out disappeared and the boy let out a sigh of relief.

After a moment he looked up at his parents. They looked even more concerned now. Great. Just freakin' great. Now they must really think him pathetic and useless. Once they helped him lay back down, Dean tried to act like the last minutes hadn't happened.

"Demon. It was a demon. He possessed Robert's dad and wanted to know about me. I didn't tell him anything."

His mother nodded, as though she'd expected at least part of the answer. "Robert said that he accidentally pushed you out the window, but I figured that he was lying. He must've been threatened into telling that story. What exactly did the demon want to know?"

"Just about why I was different. And how I got those weapons. He must've talked with Meg." Dean answered, then he repeated almost defensively "I didn't tell him anything." He didn't want his parents to think that he was completely useless.

"I know you didn't, son." His dad spoke up. "You're too strong to give in to some lousy demon, huh?"

Dean looked to his dad in shock. Those were not words he ever expected to hear come from his dad's mouth. Maybe the man was just humoring him? Either way, his dad was wrong. He'd given in to Alastair before and was terrified of what the outcome of their next encounter would be.

"Yes, he is." Cas nodded.

"Never doubted that." Dean's mom agreed.

Dean gave them all a weak smile but his heart was filled with joy. They actually _did_ seem sincere. Could it be that they saw him at his worst yet weren't disgusted with him? The part of him that had spent years being abandoned by all those he cared about insisted that it couldn't be true but another part of him was too busy feeling loved and accepted to doubt their words. Dean decided for the moment to try and ignore his insecurities and bask in the warmth of his family. After all, he'd lived through an encounter with Alastair and then was rescued from his memories of Hell. He deserved a break.

"So then, does the brave yet injured kid get a victory dinner? I'm thinking a burger, fries, milkshake, and pie." Dean requested.

"I think the hospital is serving dried out chicken with questionable vegetables." His dad responded.

"Dude, and I thought I was out of Hell." Dean muttered and smiled as his family laughed.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** See, I'm not as bad as you all thought... I do have a heart... sort of... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and please leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks._


	21. Thanksgiving

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! Another three updates week! I want to thank FireChildSlytherin5, Hasmik Aharonyan, Gustin azza, roy23, Stone120, RoseDragon666, numb3rs mystery, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Wunjo, FireAngel5683, Anon, BranchSuper, jazzy2may, Vampy, elfinblue, and crazed-ink-slinger for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Twenty-One: Thanksgiving**

The slot car went around and around on the track as Dean sat on his bedroom floor and pressed the trigger of his toy. Sammy lay on his stomach next to his older brother, eyes wide and giggling as he watched the blue car pass him over and over again. Dean looked over at the baby and smiled.

"Wanna see something really cool, Sammy? Watch this."

As the car was nearing the turn in the figure eight that was closest to Sammy, Dean pressed the trigger all the way down. The toy sped up and jumped the track, landing upside down just a half a foot away from the smallest Winchester. The baby squealed with joy. Dean laughed and raised his right hand into the air in a gesture of triumph. Sammy rolled onto his back and waved his chubby little arms around while staring up at Dean. The older boy laughed again.

"Now here's a secret; real car crashes aren't as fun. They kinda suck. And don't repeat any of this or Mom'll have my ass, 'kay."

Sammy just watched him while still smiling and started cooing and making little baby noises.

"Yeah, you're probably saying even worse things in the baby language of yours and laughing at all of us for thinking you're so innocent. But I'm onto you. I know who you grow up to be and you're nothing but trouble hidden behind puppy dog eyes. So don't think for a moment that I'm fooled."

Dean got to his feet, which wasn't so easy with only one usable arm, and walked over to his nightstand. He picked up one of the photos he kept there and looked at the picture of a grown up Sam trying to retaliate for the water that Dean had poured over his head. The boy touched the long haired man's face with a sad smile. He loved the fact that Sam would get another shot at a happier life, but sometimes he missed the brother he'd grown up with.

"Dean?"

The young hunter turned his head to see his mom standing in the doorway. He hurriedly put the picture down.

"What's up?"

"The parade is on. I thought you and Sammy might want to watch it."

"Awesome." Dean nodded and then regretted it. His head still bothered him if he moved it too fast.

"Okay then. Let's go." His mom picked Sammy up off the floor and Dean followed her downstairs.

When they reached the living room, the baby was placed in the playpen and Dean hopped up on the couch. The thanksgiving turkey was already in the oven and a lot of the prep work for the side dishes had been completed, so the whole family was gathered around the television.

Dean sat in between his parents on the couch while Cas was sitting in Dean's father's chair, looking a bit unsure of himself. The angel was still getting used to living with the Winchesters. Seeing Cas helping to set the table, wash dishes, vacuum, and even watch Sammy was just priceless. Dean teased him every chance he got.

"We should have some snacks to watch this." His dad announced.

"Damned straight." Dean agreed.

"Dean, language." His mom scolded. "And no, we are not having snacks now. We're going to be sitting down for dinner in just a couple of hours."

"I'll starve before then." Dean's father protested.

"It's exceedingly unlikely that you'll starve before the turkey has finished baking." Cas pointed out. "As a matter of fact, since you went back and took another donut when Mary was out of the kitchen, you probably won't even experience hunger for another two hours."

Dean burst out laughing. "Cas, you're awesome."

"Thank you, Dean." The angel responded without missing a beat.

"Sneaking donuts, huh?" His mother shook her head. "I knew I should've been suspicious when you volunteered to go check on the food."

"I was hungry." His dad defended himself, then turned to Cas. "And you need to learn to keep your mouth shut."

"Don't mind him." Dean advised the angel. "He just hates getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar."

Now Cas looked confused. "The donuts weren't kept in a cookie jar."

"No they weren't." Dean confirmed with a laugh.

His friend seemed to realize that Dean had either been teasing or using an expression that he was unfamiliar with because he simply nodded and dropped the subject.

A little while later, Dean was sprawled out with his head on his mom's lap and his feet on his dad's. He was getting comfortable doing some typical kid stuff like that and wasn't sure if that should concern him or not. It seemed that no one, not even himself, knew what age he really was anymore. He was still himself, that wasn't gonna change, but he was having a hard time denying his four year old emotions and impulses. It took all he had not to request hugs from his parents, not to play with his toys, not to cry when he was upset, or jump up and down when he was excited. A normal child would just give in to those emotional responses, but Dean was not a kid. He was a man, damn it. Because he still wanted to hunt, drive the Impala, drink beer, and act strong and fearless. So where exactly did all this leave him? Confused as all hell, that's where. And he could tell that his parents were struggling to figure out how to treat him, especially with his uncontrollable mood swings. But he figured that relaxing with his parents was an okay thing for any age.

And he really did enjoy being with them. Even if he was still trying to keep from them all the details of his encounter with Alastair. He still hadn't told them the demon's name or reveal that it was the same creature that they had seen torturing him in his memories of Hell. Another topic he was avoiding like the plague. Dean knew that they were curious and that it was only a matter of time before they asked him questions directly but until that moment came, Dean was content to enjoy his time with them and ignore the gigantic elephant in the room.

"Dude, what the hell? Why do they have a Superman balloon but not Batman?" Dean grumbled.

"They are both comic book superheroes, are they not?" Cas asked.

"Do not compare them, Cas. Batman is the definition of awesomeness while overgrown boy-scout Superman needs a dork like Jimmy freakin' Olson to help fight his battles. And in a few years Supes is gonna grow his hair out girlishly long. 'Sides, Batman gets it on with Catwoman while Superman is stuck with Lois Lane, who isn't even that hot."

"I don't hear any of this." Dean's mom covered her ears as she scowled down at him.

Dean smiled his most innocent smile up at her. "What? We're just discussing comics."

She playfully smacked his right shoulder. "Sit up, trouble-maker. I've got to go take Tom Turkey out of the oven."

"Eww! Can you please not name our food, Mom?"

"Do you need any assistance?" Cas offered.

"I got it, Cas." Dean jumped up and followed his mom into the kitchen. The table was already set, so he didn't have to worry about that. As his mother was taking the turkey out, Dean kicked his footstool over to the other end of the floor and used it to climb up to kneel on the counter. Then he opened a cabinet and took out a couple jars of baby food and placed them down next to his knees.

"Dean! Get off the counter!"

The boy jumped and would've fallen backwards and onto the floor if his mom hadn't grabbed him. He hissed in pain as his bruised and sore back collided with her and his head got slightly jarred. His mother carefully stood him on the ground.

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

Dean nodded and then regretted the action as his head swam a bit

"What were you thinking?" The concern evaporated under the heat of her anger. "You could've fallen and ended up back in the hospital. Is that what you want?"

Dean felt tears well up in his eyes. "I was just trying to help Sammy. I wanted him to have thanksgiving dinner too." He pointed at the jars he'd taken out. One was turkey and green beans and the other was sweet potatoes.

His mom's anger melted away and she knelt down and pulled him into a gentle hug. "I know you're used to taking care of Sam but please just let yourself be taken care of too. You should never climb up on the counter but especially not when you're hurt. I don't want anything more to happen to you, Dean."

"Sorry." Dean mumbled. And he was. He remembered all the heart attacks that Sam had given him in his old life when he'd thought that his little brother was hurt or worse and suddenly realized that now he himself had people who gave a crap whether he was injured or not. It was a strange but nice feeling.

"You're forgiven. But please just go sit down and rest until dinner is served. You're still recovering."

Dean nodded and trudged back into the living room where his dad and Cas were trying to pretend that they hadn't been eavesdropping on the whole incident.

Thanksgiving dinner was beyond awesome. There was the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, yams baked with brown sugar, carrots, green bean casserole, homemade applesauce, and warm breadsticks. Dean tried to eat an adult-sized portion and failed miserably. And as he'd planned, he got Cas to try a little bit of all the food. Sammy willingly ate the sweet potatoes but spit up the turkey and green beans puree. One whiff of it and Dean had to admit that his baby brother had full reason to reject that crap.

He helped clear the table and then joined his dad in the living room where the oldest Winchester was watching the game. Dean wasn't that interested in it, but was looking forwards to lying down on the couch.

His eyes closed and he almost dozed off when scenes of Hell began to seep into his consciousness. Dean sat straight up with a gasp. Nope. No naps for this kid.

"You okay, buddy?"

Dean forced a smile as he answered his dad. "Yeah. Just my stomach. Think I ate too much."

He knew that his father wasn't convinced but the man just nodded and smiled. "Me too." Then he put an arm around the boy and pulled him to his side. They sat like that until they were called for dessert.

Once again gathered around the table, the Winchesters dug into apple pie, pumpkin pie, banana nut bread, jello with mixed fruit, and chocolate chip cookies that Dean had helped his mom bake the previous day. The boy helped himself to the largest slice of apple pie and covered it with whipped cream.

"I don't understand how all of you can eat those desserts after the copious amount of food you had earlier."

"Not just us, Cas." Dean spoke around a mouthful of pie. "You too. You're not leaving this table until you eat something. And a spoonful of jello or just one cookie won't count."

"Finish chewing before you talk." His mom instructed.

"Why do you wish me to make myself as sick as you surely will be?" Cas inquired.

"Misery loves company."

"You do not appear miserable. You seem very pleased."

"I am." Dean answered truthfully.

Years ago this Thanksgiving had sucked so incredibly bad. He'd been missing his mom terribly and his dad had drunk himself into unconsciousness. Dean still hadn't been talking after the trauma of 'that night' and hadn't done anything but feed Sammy some rice cereal and keep the baby as happy as possible. He himself hadn't touched a bite of food all day. It was his first holiday in his new sad life and it had nearly killed him with grief.

But now he sitting at the table with his family (and yep, that totally included Cas now), his stomach was full, and so was his heart. In that instant, Dean decided that he could live with the memories of his previous crappy life so long as he had moments like these to hold onto as well.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **And the Winchesters get a rest. I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	22. Early Morning at the Winchesters'

_**Author's Note: **And I'm back again... you may all cheer... Anyway, I want to thank Hasmik Aharonyan, roy23, smiling-is-my-favorite-pastime, Vampy, numb3rs mystery, Araina Richardson, X5EgSparks, savannaharaiza5, Wunjo, FireAngel5683, Angel of Nightfall, BranchSuper, snseriesfan, Silvermoon of Forestclan, jazzy2may, RoseDragon666, Eliza Ghost, Saturne, FireChildSlytherin5, Kyandua, and WitchOfDarkness13 for their awesome reviews. _

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Early Morning at the Winchesters'**

Mary woke up with a gasp and looked at the clock. 5:26 am. Just great. She hadn't been sleeping too well in the past week and a half, ever since getting a look at what her son had had to suffer through in Hell. When she closed her eyes, all she saw was him being tortured (sometimes he was an adult but the worst was when he looked like her little innocent four year old boy) and all she heard was the demon's taunting words. Had her son really been abandoned by everyone in his life? And did he really believe that it was because he was weak and unwanted? The thought of it made her heart hurt. As did seeing a little bit of the physical torment he'd had to endure for years. She was still trying to get up the courage to ask Castiel how many years Dean had had to spend down there. She knew her son wouldn't tell her and wasn't even sure if she actually wanted to know.

Getting out of bed, Mary stretched her sore muscles and put on her robe. She left John to sleep for another hour before his alarm went off and walked down the hall. A quick peek showed both of her boys still sleeping and Castiel sitting with Dean. She often wondered what they did together in the dreams. She hoped that they were having fun.

Thanksgiving had been wonderful and she thanked God often for allowing her family the nice moments. She knew that there would be many struggles ahead and it had been nice to have such a perfect day. And the weekend after had been nice and relaxing as well. They had alternated between resting and spending time as a family and learning more about the supernatural and training. It was still a bit unnerving to have her four year old teaching her about hunting. But he knew so much lore and so many creature killing techniques that she had to let him run the show. Occasionally, she'd be able to add something to his lessons, but she'd been out of that life for so long and he had decades of experience.

Mary was still deep in thought as she took her first sip of coffee. She knew what was coming. Dean and Castiel had been making good progress on their list of hunts that the Winchesters would have to complete and it was only a matter of time before their first 'job' came up. Mary had sworn off hunting and now it was back with a vengeance. And she'd have to share it with her husband and son. She'd tried to convince Dean to take a back seat but he refused and Castiel backed him up. Dean knew this stuff in a way that Mary and John didn't. The boy's parents had argued that Dean could easily get killed on a hunt and he'd responded that so could they and he _wasn't_ going through that again. Finally, they'd reached an agreement where Dean would be allowed to go on the hunts but the adults would do the heavy lifting. And to avoid having to spend days on the road, Castiel would transport them where they needed to go. The angel explained that doing so wouldn't send up any red flags to the other angels like healing or exercising demons would. But if they were all going on the hunt, someone would need to watch Sam. And Dean said that he had the perfect candidate. John was supposed to call the man today.

It had now been about a month since the night that everything changed. And she often wondered if she'd ever get used to this new definition of normal.

"Coffee at six in the morning? One of those days, huh?"

Mary looked up to see John walk into the room.

"You're up early." Mary commented.

"Says the lady who's been up long enough to brew coffee and almost finish a cup. Please tell me that's just your first."

"Yes, it's the first."

"So, trouble sleeping?"

Mary sighed. "John, I just can't forget what we saw. What Dean went through. I don't know how he made it through years of that when I can't even stand seeing it for a few minutes. And he won't talk about it. He won't talk about anything, really. Not about what happened at the birthday party. Not about his memories. How can we help him if we never know what's going on in his head?"

"I don't know. He does seem happy just being with us. Maybe that's all he needs."

"Ignoring a problem may make him temporarily happy but it won't help in the long run."

"And pressing him to talk about a traumatizing event will?" John countered.

"I don't know! And it's not like there are any parenting books on this kind of thing."

"Then we just keep trying to figure it out on our own. We don't seem to be doing too badly. Dean actually seems a bit more relaxed than he did when this all started."

"You think so?" Mary asked hopefully. She was really wanted her son to be as happy as he possibly could.

"Yeah, I do. And who wouldn't with a mom like you." John stood behind Mary and wrapped his arms around her. Then he gently kissed the top of her head. When she tilted her face up to see him, he captured her lips.

When they broke apart, Mary smiled at him. "Compliments and a kiss? What do you want?"

He laughed. "Nothing but you, honey."

"Oh man, now I need to wash my brain out with soap. Get back to your room if you're gonna start that stuff." Dean hid his face behind his hands as he entered the room. "And just so you know, I don't want any more siblings."

"Trust me, we have enough to deal with with the kids that we already have." John replied.

Dean hopped up into the chair across from them. "You just know that no other child could come anywhere near the perfection of your first."

Mary rolled her eyes. "What are you doing up now?"

"I told Cas that I wanted to get up a bit earlier today. Thought we could go over a bit more stuff before Dad made the call today."

"I thought I was going to be calling Mr. Singer after I got home from work."

"Yeah, first thing; don't call him Mr. Singer. He's Bobby. And he'll be up so you can call him before you leave."

"And you think he's going to help us?" Mary questioned.

"I know he will. He helped us out a lot the first time around. And before you ask, he can be trusted to keep an eye on Sammy if we have to drop him somewhere for a hunt. Bobby watched the two of us all the time."

"He's not yet the man you knew, Dean." John reminded him. If Mary didn't know any better, she'd swear that her husband sounded slightly jealous of the way their son spoke about this Bobby person.

"I know that, Dad. But I still know him. We met him when I was little the first time around."

"Why don't you tell us more about him?" Mary suggested. "We don't know him like you do."

"He started hunting 'cause his wife got killed. It was a demon." The boy seemed a bit uncomfortable discussing that part of his old friend's life. "He runs an auto salvage yard. Good mechanic. He has a ton of books and stuff about anything supernatural that you could think of. Well, he has less now then he will later on but still…" Dean shrugged. "Other hunters consult him a lot for info or just to get jobs. Oh, and he backs up cover stories. He's a little gruff and crude but he's really a great guy."

"So what do I say when I call?" John asked.

"Just tell him that you're a hunter and that you need to see him right away. Tell him that you could be there on Saturday. Don't mention anything about me or an angel yet. He'll just think you're nuts and hang up. After threatening you. But if you just say that you need some help and that you wanna talk face to face, everything'll be fine."

"Well, why don't we have some breakfast first?" Mary suggested.

Just the, they heard Sam crying. Mary went to get up but the cries were getting closer which meant that Castiel had already picked the baby up and was bringing him downstairs. Dean jumped up and started off into the living room.

"I'll feed him if someone brings me his bottle." The boy called over his shoulder.

Mary went into the kitchen and prepared a bottle of baby formula. John followed her to get himself some coffee. As she mixed the drink, she heard Sam stop crying and even heard a little giggling. It never ceased to amaze her just how good Dean was with the baby. She knew he had lots of practice and that he really loved his little brother. Sometimes it scared her though to know that Dean would sell his soul for the younger boy. It was a selfless act that, while admirable, Mary would have to convince Dean was just not acceptable to do ever again. She had to get him to see that his life was worth just as much as his brother's.

When she entered the living room, she saw Dean kneeling on the floor, holding Sam's rattle up in his right hand. She tried not to stare at the blue cast that his left arm was still encased in. The sight of it still upset her. Then she realized what Dean was doing.

"John, get in here." She loudly whispered.

She sensed her husband come up behind her as her eyes remained glued to the scene playing out in the room. Dean shook the rattle as Sammy lay on the floor on his belly and watched the blue and red toy. He reached a hand out to it, but the older boy was a few feet away.

"C'mon, Sammy." Dean coaxed. "You can do it. Get the rattle."

Sammy wiggled a little and let out a tiny sound of frustration.

"Hey, bitching at it won't help. You gotta crawl, Sammy. You can do it. Crawl."

The baby propped himself up on his elbows and pushed forwards with his knees. He fell face first onto the floor. Dean snorted.

"You can do better than that."

Mary held her breath as she watched Sam scoot his knees under himself again and reach an arm out. His back half was not completely off the ground as he dragged himself forwards and moved his left leg. Then his right. It wasn't pretty, but it was definitely some form of crawling. Mary clapped her hands at the same time that Dean cheered.

"Alright, Sammy! Locomotion, dude. Nothing can stop you now."

John walked past her and knelt down next to Sam. "Great job, Sammy!"

"He has a great teacher." Mary stated, ruffling Dean's hair.

"Crawling at seven months old. You beat your last record, Sammy." Dean praised the baby.

"When did he crawl last time?" Mary asked. It was weird hearing information like that but she couldn't help herself.

"He was almost eight months old. I didn't really work with him as much as I should've been."

"You were only a kid, Dean. It's amazing that you were able to teach him at all with all the stuff going on then."

"Yeah, I guess so."

John picked Sam up and looked at him. "You really are lucky, Sammy. You got yourself the best big brother in the world."

"You did awesome, Sammy." Dean seemed uncomfortable with the compliment.

"You know, you were crawling before you turned six months old." Mary informed him.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you were a handful right from the start."

John chuckled. "And you did the same 'commando crawl' that Sammy just did."

"Must be all those Marine genetics." Dean responded. "We were born ready for boot camp."

"Well, now I'm ready for some grub." John replied.

"I'll make the pancakes." Mary offered, going back into the kitchen.

After breakfast, Mary cleaned up the table with Castiel's help while Dean went back into the living room with Sammy and John called Bobby. She knew that Dean had wanted to be the one to call, but there was no way that a hunter would take a little boy seriously. As she washed the plates, Mary listened in on John's side of the conversation.

"Hello? Uh, is this Bobby Singer… Yes, hi… no, I'm not selling anything… no… I'm a hunter… that's not important… uh, no… look, I need some help… no, it's very important… trust me, going to the library isn't going to help… I need a face to face… you wouldn't believe me… I said… look, I'm coming over on Saturday whether you like it or not because it's just that important… yeah, I have a gun too." John hung up the phone. "And Dean thinks this guy can help us?"

"Maybe we just need to get to know him." Mary suggested. "He's obviously important to Dean and I think that's reason enough to give him a chance."

"He was a good ally and a great friend to Dean." Castiel informed them.

"Fine. But if he _does_ pull out a shotgun, all bets are off."

Mary smiled and kissed him on the cheek. She wasn't sure if she was looking forwards to Saturday or not. On one hand, it would be nice to meet someone who meant so much to her son. But on the other hand, it sounded like her husband and this man just might kill each other.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Coming up next... Bobby! And don't worry, action is light right now but the Winchester's first hunt together is closer than they think... Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks so much._


	23. A Very Strange Family

_**Author's Note:** Well, I'm back and bringing Bobby with me! But first, I want to thank roy23, savannaharaiza5, new21writer, Irishred79, FireChildSlytherin5, X5EgSparks, RoseDragon666, lobita, Hasmik Aharonyan, numb3rs mystery, SkyHighFan, Araina Richardson, WitchOfDarkness13, FireAngel5683, jazzy2may, guest, MyHairHurts, Eliza Ghost, BranchSuper, Lindsey, guest, and Silvermoon of Forestclan for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Twenty-Three: A Very Strange Family **

Bobby Singer poured a bit more liquor into his morning coffee before taking a large gulp. It burned in more ways than one as it traveled down his throat and settled in his stomach. Damn, but it felt good.

He'd been up half the night researching for one hunter and now another was going to show up at his door later today. One who refused to identify himself or even say what he wanted. To say that he was suspicious was the biggest damned understatement ever. But then again, hunters weren't known to be the most trusting fellows out there, so it was probably just a case of the new guy being paranoid. Either way, Bobby was ready. And so was his holy water and silver.

He'd been keeping an ear out for any cars coming down the driveway, so when he heard one he immediately went to the window and looked out. A black Chevy Impala was just parking in front of his house. Well, at least the hunter had nice taste in cars. It seemed to be well kept too. Bobby was waiting for the driver to get out so he could get his first look at the man when the backdoor was flung open. A boy jumped out and then turned around to say something to whoever else was in the car. The child couldn't've been older than four or five. What the hell was this dumbass hunter thinking, bringing a kid with him? Then a man got out of the driver's seat and turned to say something to the boy. The man did not look like most hunters that Bobby had encountered. Sure, he held himself like he'd seen his fair share of fights, but there was something… green about him. Then both passenger side doors opened. A woman got out from the front and a man in a tan trench coat climbed out of the back. Did this joker bring his entire family to this meeting? Well, apparently so, because the woman walked to the back and took out a baby. Bobby shook his head. Idjits.

The hunter went to his door and opened it as the family was approaching. The little boy looked up at him and a smile lit up his face. Bobby had only a moment to study the child when the little guy became a blur of motion. Before the man had a chance to react, the boy had plowed into him and wrapped an arm around him. Startled, Bobby just stood there looking down at the rest of the family.

"Dean!" The driver scolded.

The boy stepped back and immediately looked embarrassed. "Sorry." He mumbled.

Bobby sent a questioning look to the other man.

"Sorry about that. He's… uh, overly affectionate."

Bobby looked back down at the boy. He was small and thin with short spiky dark blonde hair. He was a cute child, with a small, freckled nose and large green eyes. There was something slightly unnerving about those eyes, though. He looked far too intelligent and seasoned for a kid and he was looking at Bobby with a look that somehow held both joy and sorrow. Then the hunter noticed that Dean's left arm was not through the sleeve of the jacket but instead encased in a blue plaster cast and being held up by a sling. Bobby immediately guessed that whatever this family was here for, it revolved around this boy.

He looked back up at the man who'd climbed out of the driver's seat. "And you are?"

"John Winchester." He extended a hand. Bobby pulled the flask from his pocket and poured holy water on the man. When nothing happened except for the man jerking his hand back in surprise, Bobby shrugged.

"What 'bout the rest of ya?"

"I'm Mary, his wife." The woman announced and held her hand out palm up. Bobby tested her too. Nothing. "These are our sons, Dean and Sam. And this is… my brother, Cas."

Bobby looked at the man in the trench coat. There was something off about him too but in a completely different way than the boy. Bobby splashed the man right in the face with the holy water. He blinked his very blue eyes and wiped the water away. Okay, not a demon but still, Bobby had a built in BS detector and it was going off big time. Her brother his ass. But he wasn't going to press on it yet.

"Winchester… never heard of ya."

"I'm new to the scene."

"I'm not." The woman, Mary, commented. "Maiden name Campbell. But my family didn't work much with other hunters. My dad was Samuel."

The name was vaguely familiar, as though he'd heard it somewhere along the way. "Well, since yer all clean, c'mon in." He stepped back allowing the strange family in.

"You didn't check me." Dean pointed out. "Demons can possess kids too."

Bobby nodded. Stupid of him not to check. He poured the holy water on the boy's good hand and was unsurprised when nothing happened. Then he led the Winchesters over to his couch. They got their coats off and all sat down, except for Cas who stood behind them. Mary held the baby in her arms and Dean was in between his parents.

"So, what can I do fer ya?"

They all exchanged a look and Bobby knew he was about to only get half-truths.

"We were attacked in our home a month ago by a demon." John started. "It was in Sammy's nursery and Mary killed it."

"Ya can't kill a demon." Bobby informed them. Idjits obviously weren't well informed.

"We have a weapon that can." Mary stated, casting a glance down at Dean. Bobby wondered what she was talking about and why she looked at the child like that. Before he could ask, she continued. "I'd met this demon, Azazel, years ago, right before I quit hunting. He made a deal with me but not for my soul. He just said he'd need to visit me in ten years. But when he did show, I killed him. And then two other demons claiming to be Azazel's children attacked us the next morning. We killed one and the other got away. A few weeks later another demon possessed one of our neighbors at a birthday party and went after Dean. He hurt him badly and then escaped. I contacted the man who'd been possessed the next day and he claimed not to remember anything, but he seemed shaken. I think the demon threatened him into silence. Either way, I'm getting back into hunting."

"And I'm joining her." John insisted.

Cas nodded as well.

Bobby looked back to Dean. The boy had survived a demon attack. Maybe that explained a little but there was something more to the story. Bobby knew it.

"The demon that attacked yer boy at the party. Is it related to that Azazel guy too?"

The Winchester parents looked at Dean. Dean shook his head but didn't say a word. That there was another story that Bobby wasn't getting. But this time it seemed that the boy was the only one who knew the truth.

"Ya know what Azazel wanted at yer home?"

"He wanted to bleed into Sammy's mouth." Dean spoke up. "He wanted to infect kids so that they'd grow to have special powers. He had big plans for them. But we didn't give him a chance."

"You seem to know a lot 'bout this." Bobby commented.

"I do."

And there it was again. That unnerving look in the boy's eyes. But Bobby felt drawn to him somehow.

"And how?"

"That's not important." John broke in.

"If ya want my help, then every damned thing is important. Yer family's got demons after them. This ain't the time to be playin' it close to yer chest."

"Look, a lot is going on right now." Mary interrupted. "We're all just adjusting to this craziness."

Bobby looked at them skeptically. Then he turned his attention to Cas. "What 'bout you? Do ya even talk?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. "Well, don't tire yerself out with the speeches." Bobby muttered. "So, whaddya want from me?"

They all exchanged looks again. "A few things." John answered. "First off, if you get any information about demonic omens, I mean strong ones, we'd appreciate a head's up. Second, we may call from time to time with information about hunts that we can't take. I understand that you know other hunters and can give out jobs to them."

"And how do you find out 'bout the hunts?"

"We just do."

Bobby was getting damned tired of all the cryptic crap. "Well, ain't that nice for you. If that's the only answer you can pull outta yer ass, then you can shove it back up in there and get out of my goddamn house."

"Hey, watch the language in front of the children!" Mary snapped, while Dean chuckled.

Bobby shrugged. "Yer the ones who brought little ones to the grown ups' meeting."

"Dad, we should tell him…"

"Dean, we talked about this."

"But, Dad…"

"No." John turned his attention back to Bobby. "We can't give you all the details but I can tell you that if you work with us many lives can be saved."

"That's a crap answer and ya know it."

"It's the only one you're getting."

"Dude, stow the pissing contest already!" Dean yelled. "We gotta cut the crap and all work together, okay?"

"And she says that_ I_ gotta watch _my_ language." Bobby commented. He found himself studying the kid once again. He didn't talk much like a small child. Nor did he carry himself like one. Not even like one who'd encountered demons and live to tell the tale. There was a one hellava story there.

"Dean is correct." Cas spoke up. "We can all benefit from cooperation."

"Tell me one thing and I don't want no BS. How did you kill demons? What weapon you got that can do that?"

"We have the colt." Dean answered. "Well, not _the_ colt but one just like it. And before you say anything, I know that there's only supposed to be one but trust me that this one does the job. Oh, and we got a knife that ganks 'em too."

"Yer serious?"

"Completely."

"Alright."

John turned to him in surprise. "You believe us just like that?"

"Yep. Seems the boy's the only one outta the lot of ya that ain't tryin' ta play hide and seek with the truth.'

"Can we not mention that game?" Dean's voice was barely above a whisper and was filled with too much pain.

There was an awkward silence that followed his statement. Then Bobby cleared his throat. "So, ya got any hunts comin' up soon?"

"Well, we're still figuring out everything." Mary replied. "This was just mostly to meet with you and discuss how things were going to be handled. We were told by someone we trust that you were the person to come to."

"Who toldja that?"

"Can't say." John responded.

"Why don't that surprise me?" Bobby really wanted to show this family to the door and let it hit John's ass on his way out but something about them was stopping him. Sure part of it was because if they really had information that could save lives, then they were worth a little aggravation. But another part was Dean. Bobby spent many days regretting not having kids of his own. He'd been stupid and had lost his wife before he could pull his head outta his ass and change his mind. Now it was too late. But one look at this boy told Bobby that he needed help. Yeah, he had his family but Bobby couldn't shake the feeling that this kid was also looking to him for something too. There was something incredibly special about this child and the hunter just couldn't turn his back on him. "Fine. Let's hash out the details of an arrangement then."

The bright smile on Dean's face let him know that it was the right choice.

"Thank you." Mary seemed relieved. In her arms, the little baby boy made a gurgling noise and grabbed at her hair.

John nodded his head. "Well, we wrote down all the information we have on Azazel and the other demons that showed up. I'd like to pass it on to you just in case you find out any more information or locate any omens."

"Sure, I'll take a look." Bobby agreed.

John reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. As he did so, a business card fell on the ground. Dean reached down with his good arm and grabbed it. The boy took a look at it and then his face instantly drained of color.

"Alastair?" He whispered. He began to tremble uncontrollably. Then the child looked up at his dad. "When did you… how…"

The father took the card. "This guy approached me in the bar. It was right after that night and he said he could help. I forgot I even had the card. Why?"

"You spoke with him?" Now the boy seemed trapped between fear and anger. "You were going to send me to see Alastair? Why? Why would you… oh, God… no… I can't…" Now Dean was hyperventilating and tears were gathering in his eyes. John reached a hand out to place it on the child's shoulder, but the kid pulled away. "Leave me alone! Don't touch me! Nobody touch me!" He looked around, completely panicked and Bobby got the feeling that he was no longer seeing the messy room but was somewhere else all together. Then, without warning, the boy took off to the front door. It slammed shut behind him as all the adults looked on in shock.

"Balls!" Bobby exclaimed.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. Each review is like a hug for little Dean ;) Thanks so much for all the support._


	24. The Whole Story

_**Author's Note:** Not only am I back with a third update this week, but this is my longest chapter to date! I really want to thank Silvermoon of Forestclan, The Magnetic Witch, savannaharaiza5, Gustin azza, numb3rs mystery, FireAngel5683, Araina Richardson, Hasmik Aharonyah, roy23, FireChildSlytherin5, Irishred79, RoseDragon666, lobita, Invader Kiwi, vixxster2492, Chazioid, micha, Nyx Ro, BranchSuper, Wunjo, zhen123, guest, Taeriel, Augustus Black, Saturne, shammy101, snseriesfan, yuiop, Vampy, guest, jazzy2may, and Eliza Ghost for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Twenty-Four:** **The Whole Story**

John sat in stunned silence for a moment as his son ran out the front door of Bobby Singer's house. What the hell had just happened? Sure, he expected that Dean would be upset if he ever found out that John had contemplated sending him to a daycare run by a child psychologist, but that was a severe overreaction.

John got up to follow Dean but then Castiel was there blocking his way.

"Let me see that." The angel pointed to the card in his hand. John gave it to him and Castiel looked it over. "Bobby, go retrieve Dean."

"What?" John yelled. "No way. I'm going to go get my son."

"He won't wish to talk with you right now. It's not your fault but this is not a good turn of events. Bobby can take care of Dean while I tell you what you need to know about Alastair."

"You mean you know something about this psychologist?"

"You wanted to send Dean to a psychologist?" Mary asked.

"That was before I realized the truth." John defended.

Castiel interrupted them. "What is important now is that Bobby goes to Dean and we talk."

John watched as Bobby started off towards the door. "Ya sure he ain't just gonna run from me?" The other man questioned.

"He may at first. But when he realizes who you are, he'll calm down." The angel responded.

Once Bobby had left, Castiel turned back to John and Mary. John crossed his arms. "So what the hell is going on?"

"Alastair is a demon."

"What?"

"He's a demon. And not just any demon. He is one of Hell's most feared demons. He is high up on the hierarchy and very powerful. His specialty is torturing and breaking souls."

John got a sick feeling in his stomach. "And Dean…"

"Was one of Alastair's victims."

"Oh, God." Mary gasped.

"Alastair is the one you saw in Dean's memory of Hell. He was charged with torturing your son and did so for decades."

"How… how long was Dean there?" Mary questioned.

"Forty years."

John found that he just couldn't wrap his head around that. Dean hadn't even been thirty when he'd sold his soul. Which meant that John's son had spent more time in Hell than he'd spent on earth. "But… no. How did Dean even survive that intact?"

"He didn't. Alastair broke him. That is why he reacted that way upon seeing his name. If the demon got his hands on Dean in this small body…" Castiel trailed off. No one wanted him to complete that thought.

After a moment, John asked a question that he really didn't want an answer to. "What do you mean that he 'broke' Dean?"

"Your son would never forgive me for answering that. Perhaps one day he'll tell you himself. I only mentioned it to let you know just how severe the damage Alastair inflicted upon Dean was."

"I didn't know." John was stricken by the thought that he'd come so close to handing his boy over to the monster that had tortured and tormented him for forty years.

"There is no way you could have." Castiel assured him.

"But what does he want with Dean now?" Mary wanted to know.

"Yeah, it's not like he could know about Dean being to Hell." John added.

"No. But he's been called on before to fix problems when something goes wrong. When Dean stopped the predestined events that night, it put a stop to Hell's plans. The demons must be trying to figure out what went wrong and put things back on track."

"And they're interested in Dean?"

"One look at him and Meg knew that there was something different about him. That makes him the most logical place to start."

"Then we keep him safe." John stated. "We won't let this Alastair bastard get his hands on Dean."

John couldn't even bear the thought of that demon getting its hands on his son. He'd seen more than enough in Dean's memories. Dean had been physically and mentally tortured so terribly. And what made it worse was the fact that the demon had used things that the other version of John himself had said and done against his son. Had it not been for Dean changing their futures, John would apparently now be well on his way to helping to destroy Dean's self-esteem. He was beginning to see that his boy didn't think much of himself and it all stemmed from the way he'd been raised. John knew that it was ridiculous to be angry with himself for something he'd never even done, but he'd give anything to be able to make things right for Dean. And he'd start by making damned sure that Alastair didn't even get a chance to lay his hands or even his eyes on the child.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He didn't know why he was running, what he was running from, or even where he was running to. But he just kept running.

One moment he was in the Singer Auto Salvage yard, trying to escape from his father who somehow knew Alastair and was going to send him to a daycare run by that monster. The next moment found him lost in Hell with the demon hot on his trail. And then he was back outside of Bobby's house but was still convinced that he was fleeing from Alastair. Dean didn't know which reality was real but all of them required him to run.

His lungs began to burn in the cold air but he fought the urge to slow down. Dean pushed his small body faster and faster until his foot caught on some scrap metal on the ground and he went down.

"Son of a bitch!" He exclaimed. Dean tried to pull himself back to his feet but his leg was hurting and his left arm was useless in its sling and he was just so tired. It took him a few tries to stand back up. By the time he did, it was too late. Dean heard footsteps right behind him.

"Dean?"

"No!" Dean cried out and went to start running again. He had to escape from Alastair. He didn't want to be cut, and sliced, and beat, and torn, and burned by that sadistic monster ever again.

"Slow down, boy."

A hand grasped his right shoulder. The demon had grabbed him! Dean spun around and became a blur of fists, feet, elbows, knees, and teeth as he desperately fought the creature off. Alastair wouldn't get him without a fight.

"Hey, hey! Easy! Kid, I'm tryin' ta help ya."

"Keep away from me, Alastair! You aren't getting me back! I'm not going back! I'll kill you, you son of a bitch! Get the hell away from me and my family or I swear you'll regret it!"

"I ain't Alastair, Dean. Stop fightin' and take a look. It's just me. It's Bobby."

"Bobby?" Dean was a little wary but the voice sure as hell didn't sound like Alastair. With equal parts fear and hope, the boy stopped thrashing and stared at the man who was before him. "Bobby!" Dean wrapped his good arm around the man and held on for dear life. He felt tears streaming down his face but didn't have the energy to wipe them away. He leaned into his old friend and let himself silently cry. Bobby hugged him back and somehow shifted them so that they were both sitting, Bobby on the ground and Dean in his lap. After a few minutes, Dean felt like he had control over his runaway emotions once again. He looked up at the man and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Ya damned well better be, boy. Ya got one helluva punch and those baby teeth are awfully sharp. Ya mind tellin' me what that was all 'bout?"

"I… I panicked."

"Yeah, that's obvious. But why? Somethin' ain't right with you, boy, and we both know it. So what's yer story?"

Dean licked his lips as he contemplated what to say. He'd wanted to tell Bobby the truth from the start but he'd been shot down. But the man deserved to know. Besides, Bobby was no idiot and they couldn't keep feeding him lies and half-truths forever if they wanted his help.

"I'll tell you my story. My whole story. But you gotta let me talk, 'kay? No interruptions and you have to try and believe me no matter how crazy this all sounds. Promise?"

"Promise."

"Azazel came to our house on November 2nd, 1983. He bled into my brother's mouth and then killed my mom when she ran into the nursery. Dad, Sammy, and me escaped as our house burned. Dad found out about the supernatural and became a hunter. He raised Sammy and me to be hunters too. We had no home but the Impala and we traveled the country. Then we met a hunter called Bobby Singer who helped us out. You cussed Dad out the first time you guys met for him dragging his kids into this life but still we all got along and Dad trusted you with us. He'd sometimes leave us here for weeks while he'd be on hunts in the area. I loved my dad and I know he did his best but he wasn't always there for us. You were. Hell, when we were kids we'd call you 'Uncle Bobby'. But then we grew up. And Azazel killed Dad. And then Sammy died. I sold my soul to bring him back. You chewed my ass out for it when you found out." Dean let out a small humorless laugh "You and Sammy tried for a year to get me outta the deal but there was no way out. When my time was up, the hellhounds came for me and I was dragged to Hell. That's where I encountered Alastair." At this point, the boy's voice wavered but he took a deep breath and continued. "He's a demon. Hell, he's the demon that other demons are afraid of. Hell's number one torturer. Alastair took me apart for years down there. You see, it was only four months up here but down in the pit time works differently. I was there for a long time before I was pulled out. And this was the first place I came after I got back. After making sure that I wasn't a demon or a shifter, you helped me track down Sammy and we eventually discovered that an angel had rescued me. His name is Castiel. And yeah, that's Cas. Anyway, after that we all got pulled into a war between Heaven and Hell. It was rough. And I gotta admit that I kept finding excuses for Sammy and me to drop by your house. It was kinda like coming home. But then things went from bad to worse and… and you died. You got shot in the head by a monster and I thought I was going to die too. I wanted to die some days. You tried to hang around as a ghost but it didn't work out well and I had to lose you again. After that, things were hard. And then came the day where I lost everyone but Cas. I was dying too. And then Cas, he figured out how to fix everything. He brought me back here into my four year old body on November 2nd, 1983 and I helped save my mom and kill Azazel."

Bobby looked down at him. "So, that's yer story?"

"Yeah. And now I'm here and I'm four but I'm also thirty and I'm not sure what's gonna happen next. I'm trying to hold together and be strong and not be a burden on my parents with all my crap but I can't forget the stuff that happened before and now I got these damned kiddie emotions that I don't know how to handle. But I'll tell you one thing. I'm not gonna let you die again. I'm not losin' anyone this time. No freakin' way. I may be a complete screw up, but this is one thing I'll get right."

"I don't wanna ever hear ya talk like that again, you hear me boy?"

"Bobby?"

'Ya ain't a screw up. I've known ya just a couple hours and I could tell ya that. Ya sound like a damned hero ta me, Dean. And I know yer parents'll agree. Ya may be a damned idgit fer sellin' yer soul but I ain't seen or heard nothin' that'd make me think ya screwed anythin' up. So you keep yer damned mouth shut if ya think of sayin' that crap again. Got it?"

Dean nodded. "So… you believe me?"

"Look in yer eyes, how can I not? It's one crazy story, but ya believe every word ya said. So either yer tellin' the truth or we're both asylum bound."

"Thanks." After a moment, Dean stood up and shifted uncomfortably. "So… what now?"

"Now we get our asses back inside 'fore we freeze 'em off."

"But…" Dean wasn't so sure about going back in.

"Use yer head, boy. If yer daddy knew that Alastair was a demon who tortured you, ya think he'd send ya ta see him?"

"I guess not." Dean chewed his lip. With the panic receding, he realized that he'd never mentioned the name Alastair around his parents. "But still, it means my dad was gonna ship me off to some head shrinker."

"Yeah, well, yer story is a bit out there and yer daddy seems like a hard ass, so it ain't surprising. But looks like everything's fine with you two now, right?"

Dean nodded. He was beginning to feel a bit foolish for overreacting. Bobby put his arm around the boy and the two of them started to walk back to the house. Dean let out a small gasp of pain and looked down at his leg. The pants were torn just under the right knee and when he looked under the denim he saw blood leaking from a cut. Bobby crouched down to take a look.

"It ain't nothin' more than a scratch but we're gonna hafta clean that out or you're libel ta get yerself tetanus or some crap like that. But don't be thinkin' that I'm gonna carry yer ass back into the house. You can walk."

"Like you'd even be able to lift me, old man."

"Old man, huh? I'll show ya old." Bobby stood and playfully wrapped an arm around Dean's neck. The boy laughed.

When they made it back into Bobby's home, Dean was met with four sets of eyes staring at him. Yep, even little Sammy was looking. He shuffled his feet nervously.

"Sorry for running off."

"Come here." His dad ordered, an edge to his voice.

Dean winced but did as he was told. As soon as he was within an arm's reach of his father, the man grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.

"I didn't know, Dean. I didn't know. I'd never let you get hurt, son."

"I know." Dean acknowledged. "It's my fault. I should've told you 'bout Alastair."

"Castiel told us about him just now. And it's clear that he's looking for you for some reason. But I won't let him get you, Dean."

"Too late." Dean admitted. "Alastair was the demon who attacked me at the party. He wanted to know why I'm different and where I got the weapons. When I refused to tell him anything, he broke my arm. He knew that he didn't have much time before someone came looking for me, but he… he said he's gonna take me somewhere next time to be alone with him. He's going to torture me again." Dean fought against the damned waterworks that wanted to start up again.

"No, he won't." Dean had been looking at his feet but his head snapped up upon hearing the tone in his dad's voice. "That bastard won't ever lay a finger on you again."

Dean wanted to believe him.

"Why didn't you tell us?" His mom asked.

"I didn't want to talk about it. And I also didn't want to drag you guys into my problems. Alastair is a monster and I wanted to protect you from him."

"How you plannin' to protect anyone if ya don't live ta do it?" Bobby questioned.

"We're a family, Dean." His mom placed a hand on his cheek. "We all look out for each other. And we can't do that if we're keeping secrets."

"Says the family that fed me a bowl fulla crap 'bout their lives."

As his parents looked to Bobby, Dean shrugged. "I told him the truth. He needs to know. He's a part of this screwed up family too. A wise man once said that family don't end with blood."

"If Alastair has already made a move, then Hell is more desperate to get their plans back on track than we thought." Cas spoke up.

"Well, the Winchester clan is growing, so I say bring 'em on." Dean declared feeling like his old self again. He was tired of being scared and was ready to fight. "We'll show them a new meaning of Hell. Together."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **So... everyone is almost on the same page now... and just in time too... Hope you all enjoyed and please leave a review to let me know what you think. Reviews keep Alastair far away. Thanks._


	25. Dreams and Coffee

_**Author's Note:** Hi again everyone. Hope you all enjoyed your weekend. I want to thank rivers13, The Magnetic Witch, numb3rs mystery, vixxster2492, roy23, savannaharaiza5, Stone120, Invader Kiwi, FireAngel5683, Gustin azza, Vampy, FireChildSlytherin5, Malallory, Nyx Ro, Lindsey, Hasmik Aharonyan, RoseDragon666, Silvermoon of Forestclan, crazed-ink-slinger, SkyHighFan, guest, Eliza Ghost, BranchSuper, SydneyDrummond, and BigTimeGleekBTR for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Dreams and Coffee**

It was way past Dean's typical bedtime, but the young hunter was sitting on Bobby's couch looking through the back pages of John Winchester's journal. Those were the pages that Dean himself had written in. He was trying to put together what the demons could possibly be planning to put the apocalypse back on track. He rubbed at his tired eyes before making another notation. With Azazel out of the picture and Sammy past the six month mark (which for some reason had special significance) it seemed that Dean's baby brother would never be able to follow his 'destiny'. No going darkside, no drinking demon blood, no killing Lilith, and no being a super strong Luci-vessel. Also, if Azazel's soldier-boy never kills Sam, Dean wouldn't have to sell his soul, so no 'righteous man' breaking the first seal. The demons would sure have to get creative about a plan B.

"You should attempt to get to sleep soon."

"I will, Cas." Dean replied. "Just another few minutes."

"Added to all the rest of the 'another few minutes' you've asked for tonight, you'll never get any rest."

"I know." Dean looked up at the angel. "It's just… if the crap's gonna hit the fan any time soon, I need a clue as to what's coming so I can keep my family safe. But I just can't figure out what they could possibly do at this point."

"I don't think they know any more than you do, Dean. If Alastair is trying to interrogate you then they too are only at the information gathering stage."

"Yeah, well, he shows up again, he's gonna get a colt bullet in his ass."

"I don't think a shot there would kill him."

"Really, Cas?" Dean shook his head.

"You do know that you won't be able to shoot anyone's rear end if you don't get rest."

"And we're back to this again?" Dean went to laugh but ended up yawning instead which only served to prove Cas' point. "Fine, let's do it."

Tossing the journal down on the floor, Dean stretched out on the couch leaving enough room for Cas to sit by his head. The angel sat down and placed his hand on the boy's head. Dean felt sleep creeping in on him and didn't bother to fight it.

Moments later, Dean pulled the Impala up in front of a cozy looking diner. He got out of the driver's seat as Cas climbed out the other side. They'd spent the previous night just driving around, since in his dreams he was once again old enough to have a driver's license, but tonight he wanted a huge greasy burger, fries, onion rings and a nice cold beer. Oh, and pie of course.

He strolled into the diner and took a seat. Cas sat across from him.

"A diner? Why did you choose to come here? Can't you eat this food outside of a dream as well?"

"Yeah, well, in the real world when my parents and I go out to eat I'm stuck ordering from the freakin' kids' menu."

Just then a super hot waitress in a short skirt and tight shirt walked over to their table with a tray. She placed a plate overflowing with food in front of Dean followed by a beer bottle and a whole apple pie. Then she served Cas as well before winking at Dean and walking away. Dean watched her go before turning back to his friend.

"Dig in, Cas. And don't give me that 'I'm an angel, I don't need to eat' crap. I'm dreaming, so technically I don't need the food right now either. It's simply about the enjoyment."

Cas carefully picked up his bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and took a bite. Dean snickered as half the toppings slipped out the back of the bun, dripping down the angel's hands and landing on the table. The hunter then took a huge bite of his, holding the burger in such a way to avoid the same thing happening to him.

"It's not bad." Cas commented.

"Not bad? Dude, this is the best burger you will ever taste. My dream, so I made sure of it." Dean placed the sandwich down and took a long pull of his beer. Being an adult in his dreams sure had its perks. "So, I was thinking, we can set up a trap for Alastair. I mean, we already know that he'll be back for me at some point. So we prepare and kick the demonic son of a bitch in the ass when he shows his ugly face."

"We don't know when he'll be back." Cas pointed out.

"We can find a way to lure him out." Dean suggested.

"The only thing we know he wants is you. And it's a very bad idea to use you as bait."

"I personally think it's a great idea." A familiar voice commented.

Dean looked up to see Alastair standing right next to his table looking like he had years ago (yet still many years into the future) when the hunter had been pressed into torturing the demon. Dean went to get up, but Alastair grabbed him by his throat and pulled him up. His feet dangled in the air as he gasped for breath.

"Dean!" Cas cried out. "It's not really Alastair!"

"Sure… looks… like… him." Dean managed to choke out.

"Of course it's me, Dean. Haven't you missed me? All the things I've taught you, all the time spent on you and you think I'd just let you go? You're mine, in any timeline."

Dean felt panic rise in him. The demon had somehow gotten into his dream and was going to kill him.

"Think about it, Dean. In this time, why would Alastair look like this? He hasn't even met this vessel yet. He is not real. You can make him go away. Just think about him being gone. This is your dream. Take control of it again."

Cas was right. Alastair sneered at him as Dean felt his throat being crushed. Dean closed his eyes.

_He's not here. He's not here. He's not here. He's not here. He's not here._

With a thud, Dean hit the hard diner floor. He opened his eyes to find Cas hovering over him, a concerned expression on his face. Dean scrambled to his feet and looked around. Alastair was gone.

"What the hell, Cas? I thought you were keeping those memories away!"

"I am. But all I can do is push the Hell memories to the recesses of your mind. The rest of the dream is controlled by you. Apparently you were thinking of him so much that you manifested his image into your dream."

"Awesome." Dean muttered sarcastically.

"Are you okay?" The hot waitress had rushed over to him and gently stroked his face. Dean favored her with a cocky smile. Cas cleared his throat.

Dean sent a shrug to the angel. "I'm great now, babe." He told the waitress. She gave him a long kiss on the lips.

When they broke apart, she gave him a seductive smile. "I'll be in the back if you need anything."

"Thanks." Oh, if only there wasn't an angel hanging out in his dream with him… But on the other hand, Cas' friendship and support were worth more than a one night stand with an imaginary waitress, so Dean decided he'd take the trade-off. He sat back down and picked up an onion ring.

"You need to be more mindful of your fears and thoughts." Cas warned him.

"Yeah, I got that. So, how about we can the demon talk and just enjoy this food?"

"That's a good suggestion."

"Of course it is. I thought of it." Dean took a bite of the fried treat and tried not to think about anything remotely unpleasant.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Bobby started up a pot of coffee as he waited for the Winchesters to wake up. They'd have to go out somewhere to eat though since Bobby didn't have enough breakfast foods to feed everyone. It wasn't like he had been planning on the family staying over. But it had been late by the time they'd completed their exchange of information and John looked far too worn out to complete the four hour drive a second time that day. Besides, if Bobby was completely honest with himself, he was a bit of a softy when it came to that kid who wasn't quite a kid.

He'd known Dean for less than a day and he felt like the boy was the son he'd never had. The way the child spoke to him and looked at him was as heartwarming as it was unnerving. The love, admiration, and sorrow in his eyes seemed to be radiating out from his damaged soul. And yeah, that boy was beyond damaged. But he was a good kid. Man. Whatever.

That brought Bobby back for the millionth time to the crazy ass story that Dean had handed to him the day before. The rational part of him wanted to deny it, but since when had Bobby Singer ever been accused of being overly rational any damned way.

"I though you burned breakfast, but now I see that the smoke I smelled is just coming from your overworked brain. What you thinking about, old man?"

Bobby turned to see Dean standing just inside the room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Watch it, smart ass. So, ya finally up and around, huh? Thought ya'd spend the whole damned day takin' up my sofa and being petted by yer angel."

"Oh, that just sounds wrong, Bobby. Or are you just jealous? I'm sure Cas can spare a night to sit with you too."

"Shut it, boy."

Dean laughed as he walked over to the hunter. "So, you got a cup of that for me?"

"Yer parents let ya drink coffee?"

"I'm thirty."

"Yer body's four and I wasn't born yesterday. Help yerself ta some milk."

"Damn."

Just then, Castiel walked into the kitchen. Bobby looked at him. He kept waiting for the guy to sprout wings or for a halo to appear or some crap like that. If he'd been asked before yesterday what an angel would look like, a guy with slightly messy dark hair, blue eyes, and a tan trench coat wouldn't've even crossed his mind. The guy didn't act much like a holy being either. Hell, the language that Dean and he himself tossed around shoulda gotten both their asses smote. But nope, Castiel just talked like a normal guy with no concept of pop-culture references or sarcasm. He wondered how he'd spent so much time around Dean yet still remained somewhat naïve.

"Hey, angel-boy, ya gonna just stand there or are ya gonna help yerself ta some coffee?"

"Wait… Cas gets coffee and I don't." Dean protested.

"I don't drink coffee." Castiel replied at the same time as Dean.

"Suit yerself. And yeah, everybody in this house that's hit puberty gets caffeine."

"You know that angels don't actually do the whole puberty thing, right Bobby?" Dean questioned.

"Too much info, short stuff."

"Good morning, Bobby." Mary greeted as she walked in.

"Mornin'."

"You didn't give Dean any coffee, did you?"

"Do I look like an idjit ta ya?"

"Can I answer that?" Dean piped up, a little too eagerly.

"Nope."

"Well, if my son's done insulting you, I'll take a cup of that joe and then we'll be on our way." John informed Bobby as he entered the now overcrowded kitchen.

"No, ya ain't."

"What? What's wrong with that plan?" John sounded annoyed at his idea being shot down. Well, too damned bad. But on the other hand, the man had a bit of a short temper and Bobby really didn't want to see what the guy was like when it ran out.

"Well, we're all goin' out fer breakfast and then comin' back here ta go over some plans."

"Plans for what? I thought we all agreed that we have to wait to see what the demons' next step will be."

"Yeah well, that ain't what we need ta plan fer."

"What then?"

"Yer first hunt."

_**Author's Note Part Two: ** First off, please don't kill me for the apparence of Alastair in this chapter... he wasn't really there so it doesn't count and no one has to send demons or hellhounds after me. I hope you all enjoyed and are looking forwards to the Winchesters' first hunt together. Please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks._


	26. Starting the First Hunt

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone, I'm back right on schedule! I'm glad that everyone seems to like Bobby, he's awesome and so fun to write. And now I want to thank The Magnetic Witch, roy23, numb3rs mystery, Hasmik Aharonyan, FireChildSlytherin5, cab60, vixxster2492, lobita, snseriesfan, Anon, RoseDragon666, BigTimeGleekBTR, savannaharaiza5, Eliza Ghost, FireAngel5683, androidtracker, BranchSuper, Gustin azza, Kitsune1818, GhibliGirl91, Vampy, Stone120, and Micha for their wonderful reviews._

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Starting the First Hunt **

Dean stared at Bobby wondering what the hell the hunter was talking about. Their first hunt? According to the list that he and Cas had compiled from John's journal, the first hunt was still weeks away. But he had a feeling that Bobby was not talking about that.

"What first hunt?" His dad beat him to the question.

"The one yer goin' on next weekend."

"There isn't one next weekend."

"Maybe not one in that journal yer son's got. But there are always hunts out there."

His dad shook his head. "No. We aren't going to be taking on extra hunts unless it's absolutely necessary. I've got a job and a family and we aren't going to repeat the mistakes that could've been made. Hunting is not going to take over our lives."

"Well, ain't that a pretty speech. But ya can put the damned soapbox away, John. I ain't askin' ya ta hunt twenty-four/seven."

"Then why…"

"Dean, what's the first hunt ya got written in that book o' yers?"

"Uh… it turned out to be a werewolf." Dean answered.

"Uh huh. And, how did it turn out fer yer daddy?"

Dean shuddered as he remembered his dad coming back inside the motel room that night. Dean hadn't been able to get to sleep and when he heard the sound of the Impala pull back up in front of their room, he'd climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb baby Sammy, and ran to stand in front of the door. It had opened and in walked a nightmare. It actually took a few seconds before the little boy had recognized his daddy under all the blood. The red fluid trailed down his daddy's face from a large cut and it coated the man's torn clothes. The bloody man stumbled in and Dean went to go to him, even though he was a little scared of his daddy's appearance. But whenever he'd gotten hurt, his mommy had always held him and comforted him, so the boy decided that that must be what his daddy needed. But he stepped too close and his daddy didn't see him and bumped into the child. "Jesus, Dean! What the hell! You trying to trip me?" He'd practically screamed as he shoved the boy away. Dean's eyes filled with tears as his daddy collapsed onto the bed. "Sorry." Dean whispered. His daddy looked up at him, startled by the boy's seldom used voice. "No, I'm sorry, buddy. Sorry I yelled." Dean ran into the bathroom and wet a facecloth. He brought it back to his daddy. "I'll make your booboos better." he'd told the man. Then he'd spent the next couple hours helping to clean huge gashes on his daddy's chest, arm, leg, and head and patch them up. He received first aid lesson number one that night and then gone to sleep with nightmares of his daddy bleeding rivers worth of blood.

The memory must've shown something on his face because he didn't even say a word before Bobby continued. "I don't think ya wanna repeat that, do ya?"

Dean shook his head.

"Good. You, John, ain't never been hunting 'fore and ya need ta ease inta it. And Mary, ya been away from the job a bit too long. Dean here's gotta learn ta hunt with the restrictions this body's gonna bring with it. Ya guys need a warm up hunt. Somethin' a bit easier than a creature lookin' ta tear ya apart limb from bloody limb. And I got the perfect case. A haunting not far from here."

"A haunting?" Dean questioned. "If you know 'bout it, why haven't you taken care of it already? And why are we waiting until next week?"

"I ain't got it taken care of, 'cause it's low priority. Ain't no one livin' in that house fer a year or so. And you guys are gonna take the week ta do the research."

"Sounds like you already did it." Dean's mom pointed out.

"Yep, but yer gonna do it again. I ain't gonna do the research fer all yer cases so ya gotta practice that too. And Dean, you let yer parents do some too. We all know yer an expert hunter but ya can't be doin' all the work fer yer entire team, got it?"

Dean nodded again. Bobby was right. He was a little annoyed at himself for not thinking of all of this first.

"So, we look into this and then go take care of it next weekend?" Dean's dad nodded, as if agreeing with the plan.

"No. Ya come back here on Saturday and let me look over yer research first. I know more 'bout this case and I don't want ya running in if ya don't got all yer 'i's dotted and yer 't's crossed."

Dean was actually excited about Saturday. He knew that they needed as much time as possible to prepare for their first hunt as a family, but he was a bit impatient. He just wanted to go on the hunt, to feel like himself again. Sure he enjoyed spending time with his family and living the life fate had cheated him out of the first time around but he couldn't deny that despite his new size, he was a hunter. It was pretty much all he was good at and he felt a bit lost without hunting.

"Sounds like a plan." Dean agreed. "But the only plan I want to talk about right now is breakfast plans."

**Monday:**

Once John had left for work, Dean got up from the dining room table and helped clean up the dishes. They'd all discussed the plans for researching the hunt and were now all set to get started. Dean had completely forgotten about the non-existence of the internet, so the research would require a bit more legwork. But he was ready.

Dean ran into his room and stripped off his pajamas. He pulled on a pair of red and blue underwear and then his jeans. He got into a black long-sleeve shirt with a green outline of a t-rex skeleton. He remembered his dad buying it for him when they went to the museum for his fourth birthday. White socks with green heels and toes followed. His sneakers were downstairs by the front door, so he'd have to wait until they were leaving to put them on. Then he shoved his Trapper Keeper (with a fire truck design on the cover), the journal, some pens, pencils, erasers, and other assorted supplies into his blue back pack one handed. He was glad that he'd been able to ditch the sling and couldn't wait for the day that the damned cast came off his arm as well. Dean pocketed his switchblade knife and was running back downstairs.

"I'm ready!" He called out.

"Not until you put a coat on you're not." His mom shot back.

"Killjoy." Dean muttered under his breath.

"I heard that."

Dean dropped his pack to the ground and pulled on his black, green, and white winter coat. Then he tugged on his sneakers. "Okay, Mom." He shouted as he shouldered his bag.

"I'm right here, Dean. No need to yell." His mom put a hand on his shoulder. He smiled up at her. She had her jacket on and her purse in hand.

"Cas, let's go!"

The angel stepped into the room holding a swaddled baby Sammy. With a nod, he walked over to the mother and son and placed a hand on them. A second later they were standing in a park, partially obscured from anyone else's view by a large statue of some old guy holding his hand up in a self-important gesture.

Cas let go of them. "I will return here at one o'clock." he informed them before disappearing with Sammy still held in his arms.

Dean chuckled at the thought that Cas had kinda become their taxi service and babysitter. But until the internet came into being, they'd have to do all their research in the towns where their hunting jobs would take place. Bobby had given them the address of the haunted house in Huron, South Dakota, so now they were in that town and ready to get to work.

"Okay, let's get ourselves to the library." His mom took his small hand in hers and they walked to the sidewalk.

Dean didn't really like being treated like a kid with the whole hand-holding crap, but his mom had insisted. She'd been afraid of getting separated from him and something happening, whether it be supernatural or otherwise.

They found the library with no problems and went inside. As they walked by the front desk and turned to go to the media section to check out the local newspapers from the last few years, a librarian smiled at them and gestured them over to the desk.

"The 'little readers' program doesn't start for another hour." She informed them.

"Oh, we're not here for that."

"Oh. Well then, the children's room is to your right. We just got in a few more picture books as well as a couple wooden puzzles that might be good for your son."

"Actually, I'm here doing some research and Dean is going to sit with me."

The older woman looked taken aback. "You understand that your boy will have to be exceptionally quiet if you take him in there. No playing around or talking."

"He's very well-behaved." Dean's mom assured her.

"I'm just gonna to look through the books I got in my bag and do some connect-the-dots pictures. I won't be loud. I promise." Dean put on his most innocent smile and looked up at her through his eyelashes.

The lady smiled back, her heart obviously melting. "Well, you enjoy yourself." She looked at his mother. "He's adorable."

"Thank you."

The Winchesters walked into the media section and were pleased to discover that it was deserted. They sat down next to each other and Dean pulled out a half-finished color/activity book and a pencil. He'd have to make it look like that was what he was working on if anyone came in. His mom got them settled in front of the microfiche machine and turned it on. Then she stood up and went to pull out all the newer newspapers and bring them over. It had been decided that Dean would look through those while she scanned the older archived papers.

Dean scanned the sections of the local paper, the Huron Daily Plainsman, that might list any murders, disappearances, or suicides as well as the real-estate section to see when the house had changed hands, all while keeping an ear out for anyone entering the room.

After about two hours, he'd filled a page full of notes. He wasn't sure what would turn out to be relevant or not until they compared notes later. Just then, he heard footsteps. Dean shoved the newspapers aside and opened his activity book. Dean placed the tip of the pencil on number one and dragged it to two. Then he continued on in order, drawing dark lines to make what was obviously a spaceship.

"How are you guys doing?" The librarian asked.

"We're okay." Dean's mom responded.

"He's such a good kid." The lady commented, watching Dean.

"Yes, he is."

"You are so lucky to have him."

"I know." His mom ruffled his hair.

Dean smiled sweetly at the elderly librarian. "I'm making a picture." He told her, keeping his voice down.

"It's lovely. And aren't you just a smart little boy to know your numbers so well."

"My mommy taught me to count really high." He informed her.

"Well, she did a wonderful job." The woman turned back to Dean's mom. "I'll be at the desk if you need anything."

After she left, his mom looked down at her son. "Laying it on a bit thick there, weren't you?"

"Hey, you're just jealous 'cause she obviously likes me better."

His mom just shook her head with a short laugh.

They left the library at twelve-fifty and walked back to the park. It was a very nice day, the sun was warm despite the December chill in the air. Dean felt the child portion of his brain begging him to run around with his arms splayed out and just enjoy himself. But the adult part of him refused. He wasn't a four year old, not really, and he couldn't afford to act like one. He was also afraid of losing the respect he'd earned from his mom. So, Dean just kept on walking. Cas was waiting for them, holding a poofy snowsuit that probably had a baby inside of it.

"Do you wish to return home for lunch, or should we eat here so you can do more research afterwards?" The angel asked.

"I think we have what we need from the library." Dean's mom replied and then looked down at the boy.

Dean nodded his agreement.

"Then we'll return."

Dean felt Cas touch his arm and then they were all back in the Winchesters' kitchen. The small hunter blinked. He still felt disoriented by angel travel.

That night, after dinner, they all sat at the table with their research spread out in front of them. Dean spoke first.

"According to the papers, the house is now owned by the bank since the previous owners couldn't sell it and didn't have the cash to keep up the mortgage. The price keeps going down. It's obvious that nobody wants to live there. The last owners moved out fifteen months ago and they only lived there for less than a year. There was one disappearance shortly afterwards. A teen boy that was dared by his buddies to break in and spend the night. The police searched the place but found no trace of him."

It was then his mom's turn. "The family that lived there last, the Miltons, had the police out several times claiming that someone was in their basement. But no one was ever caught. The parents only heard someone moving around down there but they have a little girl who was three years old at the time who claimed to see a 'big, scary man with a bad eye' coming up the stairs one night when she got up to use the bathroom."

Dean's dad was looking through the other papers. "You wrote down that there was no reports of anyone matching that description living there for as far back as you could go."

"True, but he wouldn't have had to live there." His mom pointed out.

"Just had to die there." Dean finished the thought.

His dad nodded thoughtfully. "Does the family still live in the area?"

"Yeah. Dean and I can pay them a visit tomorrow."

"Hopefully after that we'll have a bit more to work with." Dean commented.

"Well, if that's it for the night, let's pop some popcorn and watch a movie." His dad declared, standing up.

It was strange to hear his father suggest an activity that had nothing to do with hunting. But this John Winchester wasn't an obsessive ass. He was a husband and a father that was trying to help his family while also learning how to save people and hunt things. Oh, and he made some awesome butter drenched popcorn.

Later that night, Dean succumbed to sleep while lying with his family on the couch, a lame-ass horror movie playing in the background. His baby brother was sleeping in his lap and Cas' hand on his head assured him no nightmares. Tomorrow he'd go back to being a badass (if somewhat small) hunter, but for tonight he was content to just be John and Mary's little boy.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. thanks. Reviews help protect me from all the ghosts that are circling my house..._


	27. Kids say the Darnedest Things

_**Author's Note: **I'm back with the longest chapter to date! But there is a warning for this chapter: there's a slightly disturbing part in here. You've been warned. I want to thank savannaharaiza5, numb3rs mystery, Hasmik Aharonyan, FireChildSLytherin5, Nyx Ro, roy23, vixxster2492, X5EgSparks, KnightJelly, RoseDragon666, Ashes27, silversky13, snseriesfan, BranchSuper, BigTimeGleekBTR, pshhhhyeaaa, FireAngel5683, guest, Gustin azza, GhibliGirl91, Wunjo, and Eliza Ghost for their awesome reviews. You've been thanked. Also, many of you pointed out the last name Milton and I just want to say that nothing in this story is a coincidence or happens by accident. Okay, done being cryptic._

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Kids Say the Darnedest Things **

**Tuesday:**

Dean pulled his little league T-ball jersey on over a long-sleeve dark blue shirt as he got ready to go downstairs so that he and his mom could take the angel taxi back to Huron. He'd all but forgotten that his dad had enrolled him in T-ball the summer of 1983. Dean had actually been really good at it and was going to participate again the following year. But by the summer of '84 he'd been on the road with his dad and hunting left no time for sports or any other normal kid stuff. The blue and white jersey that he wore had a small picture of a blue-eyed baseball with arms holding a bat on the left breast and the name 'Winchester' embroidered on the back. It had been quite a bit too large on him that summer but fit him well now.

The boy half ran/ half jumped down the stairs and came to a stop right in front of his mom.

"Dean, what have we said about running in the house?"

"That I should only do it if something is trying to kill me."

"And is something trying to kill you?"

"Yes."

"Try again."

"No."

"Good. Then you don't need to be running, do you?"

"Yes?"

"Try again."

"No."

"Good. Now that we understand each other, you can stop smirking and we'll get ready to leave." His mom instructed with an amused smile on her face.

Dean put on his shoes and coat and stood next to her, waiting for Cas. The angel walked in just a moment later.

"Are you ready, Dean?"

"Born ready, Cas. And before you ask, that's just an expression. I wasn't actually born with the ability to do research and gank monsters."

Cas gave him a look that was hard to decipher.

Moments later, Dean and his mom were walking down a sidewalk heading to their first interview together.

"Uh, so what's our cover, Mom? I don't think that I can pull off the whole federal agent thing right now."

"I'll just explain that you're a rookie." She replied

Dean laughed. "Yeah, the look on their faces would be priceless. You know, right before they threw us out on our asses and called the cops on us. But seriously, what are we gonna say?"

"That we are interested in buying the house but heard some unsettling stories. Since they are the last ones to own the place, it would make sense for concerned potential buyers to speak with them."

"Great cover story. So where do they live now?"

"In an apartment at the other side of town. But that's not where we're going."

Dean looked up at her. And yeah, he was finally getting used to looking up to see everyone. Damned short body. "Then where we headed?"

"Kristie Milton runs a daycare from six in the morning until two in the afternoon and her daughter, Carrie goes there. I thought that that would be the best place to question them. I'll stay and chat with Kristie while you'll take advantage of your age by talking with her daughter."

Dean thought it over. It was actually a good plan. Questioning the children was always difficult as the parents would be reluctant to let strangers talk with their kids and there were some things that couldn't be discussed with the mom and dad hovering over them. But now he'd be able to get some unsupervised time with the only eye witness.

But as they walked up to the door of the daycare center, Dean felt a chill run down his spine. All he could think about was that business card that his dad had kept in his pocket from a daycare run by Alastair. The boy shook his head. No. That wasn't this place. There was nothing to fear here.

The pair walked inside and up to the receptionist's desk.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, I would like to speak with Mrs. Milton please."

"Do you have an appointment for an enrollment?" The woman looked at Dean.

"No, but that is something I'd really like to discuss with her."

"One moment please." The woman got up and stuck her head into an office. Dean could hear murmurs of conversation but no actual words. A moment later the woman was back. "Just go right in." She gestured to the office she'd just been speaking into.

His mom put a hand on his back and guided him into the room. It was a pretty boring looking office. Brown carpet, beige walls, dark wood desk, coat rack, and a few tan plastic chairs. Definitely not the bright, cheerful, child-friendly office he'd been expecting. Except of course for the crayon drawings that were taped to the walls, depicting trees, rainbows, animals, people, and other childish pictures along with a framed professionally taken photograph of a little blonde girl with pigtails.

"Come in." The blonde woman greeted them, although they had already entered and closed the door behind themselves. She was short and thin and actually really pretty. She wore no make-up and dressed in jeans and a bright yellow t-shirt that read 'Sunny Spot Daycare: Where Children Shine'. "I'm Kristie Milton, the manager of Sunny Spot. And you are?"

"I'm Mary Winchester and this is my son Dean. We are considering moving into the area and were told that we should talk with you."

"Well, welcome to Heron, then. And yes, if you're looking for a place that little Dean can spend the day while you work, you've come to the right place. We have four different rooms for the different age groups, all sorts of toys and games to entertain and teach, and even an outdoor playground. Children are constantly supervised by our staff who are all CPR certified. We are open from six am to six pm and if you run a little late, Aaron always stays after so it's not too big a problem."

"That sounds wonderful. So much better than the place Dean goes to right now. Don't you think, sweetie?"

Dean bit his lip and nodded slowly. "I guess."

"Oh, it'll be fine, Dean." His mom 'assured' him. Then she turned her attention back to Mrs. Milton. "He gets nervous sometimes. And with us moving to a whole new place, it's a little hard on him. Actually, aside from enrolling him here, I was wondering if you could help me out with something else."

"What?"

"The house we're looking to buy is actually the same one that I was told that you used to own. It's a lovely house but there are some strange rumors about it and someone mentioned them in front of Dean and now he's scared. I was hoping that you could reassure him that everything is fine with the house."

The woman looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Of course the house is fine. People say silly things sometimes. Especially if they're just scared children. But it really is a nice place to live. "

Dean nodded, keeping a somewhat nervous look on his face.

His mom smiled. "See sweetie, nothing to worry about."

"Do I hafta come here?" Dean asked.

"If mommy doesn't work, we won't be able to get all the stuff we need, Dean. You know that. Please give this place a chance."

"If you want, Dean can join the other children outside for a little playtime while you and I finish discussing details." Kristie offered. "Maybe then he'll be more excited about this wonderful place."

"Would you like that Dean?" His mom asked.

"I can go play in the playground?" Dean practically bounced up and down in false excitement.

"Sure. I can show you both to the playground and then your mommy and I will leave you to play with the other kids while we come back here, okay?"

"Yay!" Dean exclaimed.

"I think that's a 'yes'." Dean's mom translated.

They exited the office and walked past two classroom doors to reach the one that led outside. Stepping out, Dean saw three different sized slides, two swing sets, four see-saws, large dome-shaped monkey-bars, a sandbox, and a pretend lemonade stand. It was actually a really nice playground.

The boy waved good-bye to his mom as the adults went back inside, then looked around. There were six boys and five girls playing on the equipment, some older than him, some younger. Three adults stood in a group watching the children and talking. There was an older woman, a teenage girl, and a twenty-something year old man. They all had on the same yellow tees as Kristie Milton wore under their coats.

A quick glace was all it took to find Carrie. Her blonde hair was pulled into pigtails just as it had been in the photo in her mother's office. The girl, who was about his physical age, was perched atop the monkey-bars, swinging her feet back and forth and watching the other kids play.

Dean started to head towards her, but a boy quite a bit taller than himself ran right into him. Dean fell on his ass, cursing himself for not paying better attention. Then the older boy looked down at him and made a face.

"Watch where you're going, shrimp!"

"Dude, you ran into me."

"Well, watch where I'm going then." The dark haired child laughed as though he'd just made the funniest joke known to man.

Dean reigned in his annoyance. "Sure, whatever."

The boy gave him a superior look as he walked off. Dean waited until his back was turned before flipping him off. A girlish laugh drew his attention up to Carrie. He smiled up at her.

"Can I come up?"

"Sure." She smiled at him.

Dean used his right arm to pull himself up onto the bottom rung and then wrapped his left arm around one of the vertical bars to free his good hand up. Then he reached for the next rung. In this fashion, he made the climb pretty quickly. Once he was sitting next to the petite girl, he returned her smile.

"Hi, I'm Dean."

"Carrie. How'd you hurt your arm?"

Dean shrugged. "Got in a fight I had no hope of winning."

Her eyes widened. "Really? You're not a bully, are you?"

"No way. The other guy was."

"Did he get in trouble?"

"He will." Dean shrugged again. "So, Carrie, huh? Are you the owner's daughter?"

"Yeah. So I'm here a lot. But the playground's fun."

"'cept for jerks like that, you mean." Dean commented, pointing at the tall boy that was now harassing a toddler.

"Yeah. My mommy's gonna kick him out though."

"Cool." Dean nodded and then got to the point. "I'm gonna be moving into your old house."

"No! Don't do that! He's still there!"

"Who?"

"The man with the bad eye. He lives downstairs. But I don't think he's alive."

"He's a ghost?" Dean asked.

"You don't believe me, do you? Nobody does." Carrie looked upset.

"I believe you. I've seen a ghost before too."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Were you scared? I was." The little girl bit her lip nervously.

"Yeah, ghosts are scary. Is the one at your old house mean?"

"I think so. He looked mean. He was big and strong and bald. And his eye looked like someone stitched it closed. And he growled at me when I saw him. And then Tony said he knew who it was but he doesn't think it's a ghost. He doesn't think ghosts are real."

"Who's Tony?" Dean questioned.

"Him." She pointed at a slightly older boy on the swings. "His daddy is a police and he says that his daddy told him that the bad-eyed man is a crook. But no one ever caught the crook. He just went away. But I know the man with the bad eye isn't just a crook. He's a ghost for sure."

"Wow."

"Yeah. So tell your daddy and mommy not to move there. It'll be bad."

"Okay."

"Are you gonna come back here a lot?" Carrie wanted to know.

"Not if we don't move here. We live in a different state right now."

"Oh. Too bad. You're nice. And this is a fun place. Except for Aaron." She looked uncomfortable as she said that last part.

"Aaron?"

"Yeah, that guy over there. He works for mommy but I don't like him. He follows me and the other kids into the bathroom and watches us. He stares a lot and is really creepy when no one else is around."

Dean felt his blood boil at the thought of some sicko hanging around these kids. "He doesn't touch you or hurt you, does he?"

"No, but I don't like the way he stares when I use the potty."

"Have you told your mom?"

"Yeah, but after I told her about the ghost I saw, she doesn't believe me much. She said he's a really nice guy and is in college to be a teacher. But he's still creepy."

Dean nodded. He was done with his questioning and was pretty sure that his mom would be ready to go soon. But there was something that he needed to do first.

"I'll take care of him. Don't worry."

"What can you do?"

"A hell of a lot."

Carrie laughed. "I like you."

"Thanks. You're pretty awesome too. I have to go now. Take care."

With that, Dean dropped down from his perch and landed in a crouch. His feet stung a bit from the fall but it was the fastest way down. It wasn't like he did it to show off or anything.

The small hunter walked over to the group of adults. He put on his most childish, innocent expression before speaking to get their attention.

"Uh, 'scuse me. I gotta pee."

"I'll take you to the bathroom." Aaron immediately offered.

"Thanks." Dean responded.

He let the man lead him back into the building and to a door that had the boy's bathroom symbol on it. Dean opened the door and looked inside. There was a small toilet, a low sink, and a paper towel dispenser in the small room. He walked in and, sure enough, Aaron followed.

"I can go by myself." Dean informed him

"I'll just stay in case you need help."

"Don't need help."

"Sure you do. Now just go pee before you wet your pants, kiddo." The guy was standing there looking a bit too eager.

_No floor show for you, douche-bag._ Dean thought. "Uh, can you turn around?"

"How can I keep an eye on you if I'm not looking? Now pull your pants down and get on with it." Aaron sounded really annoyed and impatient.

Dean walked to the toilet and pretended like he was going to undo his button. The boy could feel the weight of the man's gaze on him. And that was enough. This guy was scum and couldn't be trusted around these kids.

Dean spun around to face the man. "Yeah, you know what? I don't think so."

"What the hell, kid? I thought you had to pee."

"I don't drop my pants for pervs like you, ass-hat." Dean dropped all pretense of being a regular little boy. "And your days of playing peeping tom in a daycare are over."

Aaron seemed taken aback. "What… what are you talking about?"

"We both know exactly what I'm talking about. And you're lucky that you haven't laid a finger on these kids or this would be the last conversation of your pathetic life. But as it is, you are going to go tell Mrs. Milton that you quit and you are gonna haul ass outta here, never to return. You are not going to ever look at a kid again in any way other than wholesome and pure. 'Cause if you do, I'll be back."

"Yeah, and what are you going to do about it, kid?" The words were tough, but his voice gave away how unnerved he was.

Dean pulled out his switchblade knife and flicked it open. "I will cut off a very important part of your anatomy to ensure you never do it again."

"You… you wouldn't."

Dean put on his most dangerous look and let his eyes show his scary hunter self. The man immediately backed away until he hit the closed bathroom door. Dean decided that someday he'd have to pull that look in front of a mirror to see what scared the crap out of everyone.

"Yeah, I would." The small, pissed-off hunter promised.

"Who… _what _are you?"

"I hunt down and take care of monsters. And as far as I'm concerned, you're a monster of the worst kind. Now do we have an understanding?"

Aaron nodded dumbly.

Dean smiled sweetly at him. "Good. Now get the hell outta here, 'cause I really do gotta take a pee."

The man didn't need to be ordered twice.

Once he was gone, Dean locked the door and then relieved himself. He flushed, washed his hands, and dried them on a paper towel. After disposing of the now soggy paper, the boy left the bathroom and went back outside. No sooner had he stepped through the door, then his mom and Kristie walked into the playground.

"I don't understand why he'd just quit like that." The daycare owner was complaining. "Now I'm going to be stuck covering closing time until I can hire a replacement."

"Well, I hope it works out for you. This is a lovely place you have." His mom waved him over. "Come on Dean! We're leaving!"

With a wave and a thumbs-up to Carrie, he joined his mom and they left. As they were walking to the diner where they'd agreed to meet up with Cas, his mom kept glancing down at him. "Okay, what did you do, Dean?"

"Who says I did anything?"

"The look of pure terror on the guys face combined with the smug look on yours tells quite a story."

"He got off on staring at naked kids. I taught him the error of his ways."

"I'm getting the full story later." Mary insisted.

Dean shrugged. "So, you get any more info?"

"We'll discuss it after dinner, so your dad can be a part of the discussion too. And I'm sure he'd love to hear your story too."

"You know, I really think he would." Dean grinned.

Turned out that his dad really did like his story. All except for the part where Dean went into the bathroom alone with the pervert, but the boy convinced his parents that he was armed and safe the whole time. Afterwards, they went over the information that had been gathered.

"Kristie seems to think that there's a crawlspace or something that the man used to get into her house. At least that's what she says. But I can tell that she's just trying to convince herself of the least insane idea she can come up with."

"Carrie told me that some other kid told her that he's a criminal. His description fit someone that the boy's policeman father knew of. But the criminal, a big, bald man with an eye that was sewn shut, just disappeared."

John nodded. "You know, if this guy broke into the house, maybe whoever owned it at the time killed him. Would that do it? Make him a ghost?"

"It's likely. Very likely." Dean agreed.

"I'll go back to the library tomorrow." Mary informed them. "Now I'll have something concrete to look into."

"Awesome." Dean grinned his most cocky grin. "We got this one in the bag."

"Of course we do." Dean's father concurred, lifting the boy and tossing him into the air. "We're Winchesters." He caught Dean and then threw him onto the couch.

Dean laughed and rolled off and onto the floor.

"Hey, be careful." His mom scolded. "His arm's still healing."

His father looked a bit sheepish.

"Dean was not thrown with enough force to re-injure his arm and landed on something rather soft." Cas pointed out.

"See, the angel is on our side." His father gloated.

"Great, now I'm being over-ruled by Heaven. I'm never going to win an argument this way." She sighed dramatically.

"Why do you think I kept him around all these years?" Dean asked.

"Because I pulled you from Hell and helped you fight both demons and angels." Cas responded.

"Well, that too."

Not long after that, Dean headed upstairs to go to bed. It was just a few days until they'd all be facing the pissed off ghost of a criminal. But they'd be ready. After all, they were Winchesters.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. Next up: More on the hunt and... oh, wait... I can't reveal any surprises... Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks._


	28. Left at Home

_**Author's Note:**Hi, everyone. Hope you all enjoyed your weekend and will enjoy this next chapter! But first I want to thank numb3rs mystery, MadnessMantry, Nyx Ro, Gustin azza, roy23, lobita, FireChildSlythin5, vixxster2592, Taeriel, Hasmik Aharonyan, savannaharaiza5, BigTimeGleekBTR, Lindsey, Eliza Ghost, FireAngel5683, BranchSuper, laurie31, jazzy2may, snseriesfan, GhibliGirl91, Genessis Mendez, Silvermoon of Forestclan, LilyBolt, pollo, androidtracker, and jazzy for their awesome reviews. You guys are seriously the best! _

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Left at Home**

**Wednesday:**

Mary smiled at the librarian as she entered the library once again.

"Where's Dean today?" the older woman asked.

Yeah, her son sure made an impression on those he met.

"Oh, he's home with his baby brother and uncle today." She replied. Okay, so Castiel seemed more like a brother than an uncle to Dean but she wasn't old enough to claim him as her son. Just how old would someone have to be to claim a centuries old angel as their child?

"You should bring him by tomorrow. We're having a puppet show in the children's room at noon."

"I'll let him know." Mary lied. There was no way Dean would want to sit through that and they'd probably get thrown out due to her son's rather vulgar running commentary he kept up whenever they watched something he considered to be boring.

"Are you going back to the media room?"

"Yes. Just doing a bit more research."

"Well, let me know if you need anything."

"Okay." Mary gave her a smile as she walked off.

She sat down in front of the microfiche machine and turned it on. Then she began scrolling through the articles. The words were flying by in nausea-inducing speeds and she was really wishing that there was an easier way to get the information needed. It was difficult to get through all the articles quickly, yet not so fast that she'd miss something important. And searching through years worth of newspaper stories was going to take forever. Mary was glad that she'd convinced Dean to stay home today. He couldn't be caught using one of the machines, so there would've been nothing for him to do. And as 'adult' as he acted, he was still in a kid's body and kids were not known for their ability to sit still. Especially kids like her son. When he had nothing to do, he fidgeted constantly, made obnoxious noises, and played with anything he could get his little hands on. Yeah, home was definitely the best place for him.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Dean laughed as he jerked the joystick of the Atari controller up hitting the ball on the tv screen back at Cas. The angel tried to move his fast enough to counter the move, but the point went to Dean.

"Oh yeah! Who's awesome?!" Dean gloated, loud enough to be considered a celebration, yet quiet enough not to wake Sammy. The little guy had fallen asleep in his playpen and Dean didn't have the heart to risk disturbing him by moving him to his crib upstairs.

"I still don't understand how this is considered 'training'." Cas commented.

"It helps sharpen reflex skills."

"And if a demon ever challenges us to video games, I'm certain we'll be ready."

"Nice use of sarcasm, Cas. Didn't think you had it in you."

"I'm just trying to say that if you want to do something for fun, you don't have to disguise it as 'training'."

Dean just shrugged. He knew that Cas was right, but after growing up being told that fun for the sake of fun was frivolous, trying to pass games as training was second nature to him. Besides, he was a bit paranoid of the others seeing him as just a little kid rather than the capable hunter he was.

"You're just upset 'cause I'm kicking your ass in 'Pong'."

"Perhaps I'll beat you this time."

"Not freakin' likely." Dean hit the reset button and they started again.

They finally turned the game off when Dean's wrist started to bug him. The last thing he wanted to do was make it so that both of his hands were out of commission. He got up and stretched. The one good thing about this new body was that he no longer felt stiff and sore from sitting cross-legged on the floor for hours. All of the old aches and pains he'd collected over his lifetime were gone.

"I'm gonna go get some food." Dean announced.

"Your mom wishes me to inform you that cold pizza is not a healthy lunch."

"Noted." Dean said as he headed into the kitchen to help himself to a slice of cold pizza. He knew that Cas wouldn't stop him from eating it. The angel looked out for him but didn't baby him at all. Dean loved his parents but they saw him first as a kid and second as a time-displaced hunter. Cas saw his older self first and then the outer packaging.

Dean had just taken a large bite out of the slice of bacon pizza when he heard barking coming from outside. That was a bit strange. It had been sleeting all day long and no one in their right mind would take their dog for a walk in that kind of weather. But if it was who Dean thought it was, then the owner probably was a bit nuts.

A glance out the window proved him right. Old, senile Mr. Gallagher was walking hunched over holding the lease a beautiful black Labrador. He was trying to keep the frozen rain off of his face and the dog was obviously no happier about the weather. Dean had never heard the mutt making so much noise before. Then the old man stepped on a particularly slippery spot and went down hard the dog pulled away from him and ran into the Winchesters' yard.

Without hesitation, Dean ran to the front door and threw it open. "Cas, call 911. Mr. Gallagher fell outside!" He yelled. Dean had no clue where Cas was, probably upstairs with Sammy since he'd heard the baby wake while he was in the kitchen, but didn't want to wait for him to get back into the living room. Mr. Gallagher could need immediate help.

The boy stepped out into the sleet and instantly wished he'd taken the time to put his coat on. It was freezing cold and windy and his tee and flannel weren't doing a damned thing against the weather. Dean ran past the dog that was headed for the front steps. He ignored it and went to the old man who hadn't moved since falling. If he was unresponsive, Dean would stay with him until Cas came out and then he'd get the angel to bring the old guy inside where it was warm and dry.

He dropped down to his knees, jeans getting soaked within seconds, and gently grasped Mr. Gallagher's shoulder. He made no attempt to move him though. He didn't want to cause any further injury. Besides, he wasn't convinced that his little body had the strength the budge the much larger man.

"Hey, mister, you okay?" He got no response. "My uncle's gonna call 911, Mr. Gallagher. Just hang on."

Dean got to his feet and turned to call for Cas to hurry it up. He hadn't even opened his mouth when a hand grabbed his upper left arm. The boy turned his head to see the old man standing there, smirking down at him. Blood ran from a gash on his head but it didn't even faze the elderly man and Dean knew that Mr. Gallagher wasn't the one in the driver's seat of his body anymore. No wonder his mutt had been making such a ruckus. Animals hated demons.

A truly horrible thought crossed Dean's mind. Alastair. This was Alastair and he'd made good on his promise to kidnap Dean and take him somewhere private. The boy felt panic well up in his chest. He couldn't go through that again. He couldn't.

Dean actually sighed in relief when Mr. Gallagher's eyes turned black. Not Alastair then. Just some random demon flunky. _This _Dean could handle.

"So, you're the little boy that has Hell so riled up? I'm not impressed."

"That makes two of us, you demonic douche-bag. I mean seriously, what's with the old guy? You get off having your prostate examined or something? Or you just in it for the senior citizen discounts?"

The demon regarded him curiously. "You're not frightened?"

"Of you? Hell no."

"Well, you should be. I can kill you easy, boy." The demon possessed man grabbed the front of Dean's soaked through shirt and lifted him into the air.

"But you won't. I'm needed alive. 'cides, you're no match for me."

"You talk tough but I'm sure Alastair will cut that out of you when I bring you to him."

"So, you're just the courier? Well, hate to tell you, but your boss gave you the dirty work 'cause he knows better than to come here himself." Dean reached his right hand into his pocket and pulled out his switchblade. In one swift motion, he flicked out the blade and stabbed the demon in the shoulder.

It let out a scream and dropped Dean to the ground. Smoke poured from the wound. The demon pulled the knife out and dropped it to the ground before clutching at his shoulder.

"Just so you know, the knife is a custom job. Made from iron and soaked in a holy water and salt mixture everyday. Bet it hurts like a bitch, huh?"

Dean snatched the weapon up and took off back to the house. He didn't have anything to kill the creature with and knew that he was safest inside. He almost made it when an invisible force lifted him up and threw him against the house. Damn, but he hated that demon trick.

The boy crumpled to the ground right next to the cowering dog. The possessed man started towards him. Dean scrambled to his feet just as the front door opened. A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him through the threshold. Dean caught a brief glimpse of Cas walking past him as he stumbled back.

"Dean, stay there." The angel ordered.

The young hunter obeyed without question. He heard the sounds of a struggle and then the demon possessed old man was pushed right at the open door. He never even reached the doorway, though, due to the devil's trap that was under the outside welcome mat. Dean stepped forward, and started reciting the exorcism in Latin.

"You're going to die, kid! Bleeding and screaming, and begging for mercy! And we'll drag your soul to Hell to be tortured for eternity!"

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued. Cas stepped up behind the demon and stood there, ready just in case something else happened. Dean finished the exorcism and was rewarded with a black cloud being spewed from the elderly man's mouth and disappearing into the ground.

Cas caught Mr. Gallagher before he could fall to the ground.

"Is he alive?" Dean asked.

"Yes, but he requires assistance."

"Did you call 911?"

"No, but I will take him to the emergency room directly. Stay inside and get into dry clothes."

Dean nodded as the angel and the injured man disappeared. He looked at the dog sitting by the house.

"You're not comin' in, Cujo. Go on, get home."

The dog gave a pathetic whine, but trudged down the steps and started off down the road. Dean felt a little bad for it, but he didn't want a big, wet, dirty dog running around the house. And it had gotten quite a scare and Dean feared that it might react by attacking Sammy if the baby did anything to startle the mutt.

By the time Dean had dried himself off and gotten dressed, Cas was back.

"Are you alright, Dean?"

"Awesome. And thanks for the help."

"You're welcome. Now you just have to deal with your parents and attempt to explain why you ran outside alone."

"Can you help save me from that too?"

"I would not want to put myself in-between your upset parents and the object of their irritation."

"Thanks for the support, man. Really. I seriously need to find a new best friend." Dean muttered good naturedly.

The rest of the day was spent playing with Sammy, washing dishes, going over the notes he'd been making about possible plans that the demons might be making, and just relaxing in front of the television. His mom arrived home just before his father did, a carton of fried chicken and a bag full of side dishes in her arms.

Dean waited until their nightly after-dinner meeting to bring up what had happened. The discussion went a lot better than he'd expected. Apparently the pride of having raised a son that would run out in the freezing rain to help an elderly man balanced out the negative emotions brought on by the fact that Dean had accidently put himself in danger again. With that out of the way, and orders issued for Dean to never again set a foot outside the house alone, the Winchesters moved on to the topic of their current hunt.

"I found our ghost." His mom announced. "Trenton Craig was suspected of breaking and entering into at least nine houses and assaulting six people. During one of the break-ins, the homeowner cut the robber's eye with a knife. He must've had a friend stitch it shut because no hospital in the area reported him going in for treatment. He became more violent after that, almost killing a couple in their house. Then he just vanished. I think your theory was right, John. He probably broke into the house we're investigating and was killed by the person living there at the time, a Bradley Coombs."

"Why didn't he report it?" His dad questioned.

"Because, Mr. Coombs was on parole after spending some time in prison on assault charges. He probably assumed he'd get in trouble even if it was self-defense."

"Makes sense." Dean agreed. "But where do you think he hid the body? Maybe in the woods nearby? If so, it'll be almost impossible to find."

"Well, around the time that Trenton Craig dropped off the face of the earth, Bradley Coombs got recognition after a neighbor submitted a picture of his back lawn to a home and garden magazine on his behalf and it was featured in a gardening article. According to the article, Mr. Coombs' yard had been an overgrown mess until he suddenly decided to plant a beautiful garden full of creeping roses and decorative fruit trees."

"Bet I know what he used as fertilizer." Dean commented.

His dad snorted. "Why didn't we think of that when our rose bush was dying last summer?"

Dean's mom smacked her husband in the back of his head and he chuckled. Dean smiled as he watched them. It was strange. They hadn't had any more of their arguments since all this crap started back in the beginning of November. Their relationship seemed to be thriving. Dean guessed that their former problems probably seemed petty compared to what they now faced together and that maybe the thought that they'd almost lost one another had helped to patch up their differences. Whatever it was, Dean was pleased to see it. Especially since they were all going to need each other to make it through the upcoming hunts and demon attacks that were sure to come.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed. The Winchesters are almost ready for their first hunt and the demons are still in the picture... so what will happen next? Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks so much._


	29. Last Minute Preparations

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone. Apologies first: I am so sorry that a) This post is a day late and b) that I didn't get a chance to respond to any review. I've been dealing with medical issues and haven't been up to being on the computer. But I did read them all this morning and I greatly appreciate them. Which brings me to this: Many thanks to The Magnetic Witch, Nyx Ro, FireChildSlytherin5, LilyBolt, Invader Kiwi, Genessis Mendez, roy23, androidtracker, savannaharaiza5, BigTimeGleekBTR, london'slonelyhearts, BranchSuper, Eliza Ghost, Stone120, jazzy2may, Gustin azza, GhibliGirl91, Wunjo, RoseDragon666, and MyHairHurts for their awesome reviews. _

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Last Minute Preparations **

**Thursday:**

Dean looked around the rather large backyard of 72 Pershing rd in Huron, South Dakota. He and Cas were there to look around and draw out a map of the area so that they could best determine where to begin digging when they all came out to the house after his dad got home tomorrow.

They had all talked it over and decided that even with them all digging, they wouldn't have enough time after it got dark on Saturday to check the entire yard. So, they'd start Friday night and just call Bobby before heading there. The older hunter wouldn't be pleased with it, but waiting a day meant that it was possible that they wouldn't get a chance to salt and burn the body that weekend. John had suggested doing it on a weeknight, but he needed to get up early for work, so it was best to leave the grave digging for Fridays and Saturdays when possible. And despite the fact that there was no one living there at the moment, Dean wanted the ghost gone ASAP. After all, if one teen had already been stupid enough to go inside on a dare, more idiots would follow eventually. Dean knew he'd feel awful if someone else got killed because he'd waited to do the salt and burn when it could've been finished this weekend.

His mom had wanted to accompany him to the house to map out the backyard, but Dean had convinced her to stay home. Cas would be all the backup he'd need in the unlikely event that something went wrong and would be able to get them out of a bad situation with merely a thought. He'd also realized that while they had only been gone a few hours each day, Sammy hadn't had an entire day with his mommy all week long. Dean was determined that Sam would not grow up being left behind without his parents this time. With their mom alive and Cas in the picture as well, they would all be able to plan things out so that his brother would never have to feel abandoned. Hell, Dean himself was enjoying the constant companionship that he'd missed out on the first time around.

"Boy, this needs some TLC." Dean commented, looking at the overgrown mess that the once well-manicured yard had become. "No wonder the house won't sell. This looks like something out of a Stephan King novel. And I'm talking about his straight up horror stuff, not that douchey crap like 'From a Buick 8'."

"I haven't read any of his work."

"Big surprise there. But hey, you've got plenty of time to read 'em now. And he hasn't even written that god-awful waste of paper yet. Hey, maybe I could contact him and warn him off from it." At Cas' look, the boy shrugged. "Kidding. Mostly."

Dean pulled his sketch pad out of his backpack and started to draw the yard. He added in the fruit trees, bushes, trellises that were once covered in roses, and the fenced in area that was probably a vegetable garden once upon a time. He drew carefully, keeping everything to scale and in the right place. It wasn't easy though. His hands were too small and a bit more uncoordinated than he was used to. Sure he'd been adjusting to his body's new limitations, but things seemed to keep popping up just to frustrate him. He knew that he was going to have to keep practicing and training to get himself to where he wanted to be physically.

"Do you see any place that you would consider to be a likely burial spot?"

"Well, if I was gonna bury someone, I wouldn't pick my own backyard in the first place. I mean seriously, Cas, aside from the whole fact that it'd be easier to trace back to the person who killed the dude, now the killer's gotta worry 'bout being haunted. If I killed someone, I would just salt and burn the body right then and save myself a lot of time and trouble." He paused for a moment. "Not that I've put a lot of thought into the idea of murder or anything."

"In other words, you have no idea where the body is likely buried."

"None." Dean admitted. "But don't worry. We'll figure it out and salt and burn this bitch. Send his ugly ass straight to the pit." Then he thought about it for a moment. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Ghosts… we didn't see 'em when we were in purgatory."

"They are disembodied souls, not monsters, Dean. They wouldn't be there."

"Right. So, what happens to them when we salt and burn 'em? Do they just… disperse forever? Or do they go on to a final destination?"

"Why are you asking now?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I thought a lot about it after Bobby... Not that I'm gonna let that happen again. No way in hell. But I just… I don't know…"

"If it comforts you to know, souls cannot be destroyed by destroying their bodies."

"So, they move on." Dean nodded. Then he thought of something else. "Can a ghost get into Heaven? I mean, even if the person did some questionable things after their death?"

"You've said yourself that spirits are driven mad and that leads them to become violent. I do not believe that my Father would punish someone for circumstances out of their control."

"Oh, okay. Cool." Dean smiled. "But this guy we're hunting now was a total ass even before the whole ghost thing, so one way ticket to Hell for him."

Dean wasn't sure why he felt better knowing that in his original timeline Bobby had most likely ended up in Heaven. As he'd told Cas, he wasn't about to let that happen to his friend again. But still, knowing that the man who'd been almost like a father to him didn't end up in Hell or just ceasing to exist made Dean feel immense relief.

He was just taking on final look around to make sure that he hadn't missed anything when something caught his eye.

"We're not alone." Dean pointed up to the second story window to show Cas what he'd seen.

A man was looking down at them. He was bald and looked like his face was etched in a permanent sneer. Oh, and his left eye was stitched shut. Even for a ghost, he was fugly. And he was glaring right at the two of them.

"I think we should go." Dean suggested as he reached into his pocket, resting his hand on the small container of salt he'd put there just in case.

"I agree." Cas stepped up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

Then the ghost flickered and disappeared. Only to reappear not three feet away. Dean pulled the salt container from his pocket and flung it in front of himself.

The salt fell all over the Winchesters' living room floor. Dean looked around the room before letting out a sigh.

"Nice timing, Cas."

"Thank you."

"What happened? And why is there salt all over the floor that I just vacuumed?"

Dean turned to see his mom standing in the doorway.

"Cyclops showed up and just as I was about to disperse his ass, Cas got us outta there."

"Are you alright?"

"I just said that angel-boy here got us out quick." Dean reminded her.

"Just making sure. You have to admit, it does seem like the two of you are trouble magnets."

"I inherited that trait from my parents." Dean shot back with a grin. The boy unzipped his coat and let it drop to the floor. Then he removed his hat and shoes.

"You better not leave those there." His mom warned. "And someone needs to clean up that salt."

"Too small to use the vacuum." The young hunter commented, deciding to take advantage of his new size.

"But the perfect size to hold the dust pan while Castiel sweeps it up." His mom pointed out.

That night, the Winchesters went over the drawn out map and came up with a plan. The vegetable garden hadn't been featured in the magazine article and was probably added afterwards, so that was off the digging list. They also decided that the areas that had been left as just grass were unlikely. So, they'd start with the rose garden and the decorative trees. Luckily the trees were the type that stayed pretty small, so it wouldn't be too bad if they had to dig them up. But it was December and even though it had been unseasonably warm, the ground was still partially frozen and would be a bitch to get a shovel into. So, Dean's parents and Cas would do the digging while Dean kept a lookout. With Trenton Craig's spirit making an appearance in broad daylight while they had only been looking around, it was a foregone conclusion that he'd show up once they started digging around. But the Winchesters would be ready.

**Friday:**

Dean went through the check list of supplies. Salt? Check. Gasoline? Check. Matches and lighter? Check. Three shovels? Check. Shotguns with salt rounds? Check. Iron bar? Check. And finally, a small airgun with homemade salt bbs? Check. They were ready.

Dean hefted the airgun up and held it at the ready. It felt good. It was great that he'd have a weapon for when things heated up. He'd be a rather pathetic backup if he couldn't even defend himself and his family. But his dad had gone out to a sports store and found something that he'd felt would work for the small hunter. And when he'd tried it out, it had been almost perfect. The kickback was a bit hard for him to compensate for, especially with his left arm still in a cast, but he'd done exceedingly well at the target practice.

The boy packed everything up and put the stuff next to Sammy's already packed diaper bag. There was more than enough diapers, formula, food, and teethers in there to last an entire weekend, let alone the few hours that they'd be gone. And boy wasn't Bobby going to be thrilled with suddenly becoming a babysitter. Of course, he'd probably take it a lot better than he had the first time around, when their dad had just up and left early in the morning, leaving behind two small children and hadn't returned for over two weeks.

"Dean, come back to the table and finish your dinner!"

"Not hungry, Mom!"

"Dean, get your little butt to the table and do as your mom asks!"

"Not hungry, Dad!"

"Dean…" There was an underlying threat in the tone that the boy easily recognized from his first childhood years before.

Dean rolled his eyes. He was thirty-freakin' years old and didn't need anyone telling him when it was time to eat. Sure they were his parents but it wasn't like they could actually ground him or anything. But he decided that it was best to do as asked for the moment. No need to go into their first hunt with anyone annoyed at him.

"Coming."

Dean hopped back up into his chair and stared at his half eaten fish and his untouched rice and broccoli. He pushed it around his plate for a moment before sighing and taking another bite.

"Are you feeling okay?" His mom asked.

"Yeah." Dean replied. Truthfully though, his stomach felt a little queasy. He knew that it was from nerves but wasn't about to admit that to his parents. He'd had less control over his emotions since he'd became four again, and couldn't completely squash the fear that the kid portion of his brain was unsuccessfully trying to deal with. The adult Dean was ready to go, even a bit excited about the upcoming hunt, but child Dean was scared. And apparently the result of that mix was an upset stomach. Dean was glad for once not to be eating anything heavy or greasy.

"If you're full, that's okay."

Dean shot a grateful look to his mom. He knew that she knew the real problem and was offering him a way out. He took it thankfully.

"Yeah, I guess I ate too much at lunch."

They all knew it was a lie.

His dad stood up from the table. "Well, I'm done too. So if we're all set?"

"We're all set." Dean confirmed.

After they all got dressed for the cold weather, the Winchesters gathered in the living room with their supplies. Dean went over, picked up the phone, and dialed a number that he knew by heart.

"Who's this?"

"Hey, Bobby, it's Dean. We're all about to appear in your living room so please don't shoot us. Thanks. See ya."

Dean ran to his family and smiled.

"Let's do this!"

_**Author's Note Part Two:** I hope you all enjoyed. And I want to apologize to anyone who may have actually liked the book 'From a Buick 8', but you have to admit that Dean would probably not be impressed with it. Up next... The Hunt! Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	30. Close Encounters of the Ghostly Kind

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone. Sorry to be a day late again, medical issues won't leave me alone... But I refuse to post less than twice a week, so don't worry. And now I am posting chapter 30! 30! Can you believe it? And I give you all credit for sticking with me and supporting me. On that note, I want to thank VGiselleH, MyHairHurts, Nyx Ro, FireChildSlytherin5, numb3rs mystery, Taeriel, Wunjo, that one weirdo, savannaharaiza5, BranchSuper, snseriesfan, androidtracker, RoseDragon666, LilyBolt, Eliza Ghost, and guest for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Thirty: Close Encounters of the Ghostly Kind **

Dean almost laughed out loud when Bobby literally jumped in surprise at the sight of the Winchesters suddenly appearing before him.

"What the devil?"

"Actually, us teleporting is 'cause of an angel, not the devil." Dean corrected.

"Lucifer is an angel as well." Cas pointed out. "Albeit a fallen angel, but still…"

"You really wanna compare yourself with him?"

"Ya finished?" Bobby interrupted. "And let me answer that fer ya. Yer finished. Now, someone want to explain just why the hell yer all appearing in my house with only a vague five second warning?"

"We're heading out to the house right now to do the salt and burn. And before you say a word about it, this is the absolute best course of action. Dad's got only two nights where he can stay out late without it interfering with his job and we can't afford to waste one of them."

Bobby looked down at him. "Let me see yer research."

"Don't got time." Dean shrugged.

"We aren't going to be able to check in with you before every hunt." Dean's father spoke up. "Nor do I think you'd want us to. You need to trust us just as we need to trust our own judgment, which can't happen if you're looking over our shoulders."

"Well, ain't you guys got all the answers. How long ya practice those speeches 'fore coming here?"

"Just pulled 'em outta our asses right now." Dean admitted.

"It shows. But yer right. Just don't get yerselves killed."

"Hey, I'm an awesome experienced hunter with an angel, a kickass ex-hunter, and one of the best future hunters ever. We got this."

"Yer an idjit is what you are."

Dean grinned. "Love you too, Bobby."

His mom put the diaper bag down and placed Sammy on the ground in front of it. The baby happily cooed and then started commando-crawling across the floor.

"What ya doing with the little one while yer digging up bodies?"

"That's your job, 'uncle' Bobby." Dean informed him. Then he turned to Cas. "Let's go."

"What?" Bobby's startled response reached them just as they disappeared from his house.

They appeared in the same exact spot that he and Cas had the previous day. Dean's dad handed a shovel each to the other two full-sized adults and they immediately went to their predetermined spots. His dad began to dig around a weeping cherry tree that looked like it was only a few months away from falling over all on its own. Dean's mom was shoveling away the dirt near the rose trellises. And Cas was working to unearth a particularly ugly collection of sticks that was once a decorative whatever-the-hell-fruit tree. And Dean stood in a spot where he could keep an eye on all of them and the house as well. As he swept the area, he noticed that his mom kept glancing over at him.

"Mom, I'm the lookout, not you."

"I know."

"Then stop looking over here. This isn't gonna work if you don't trust me to watch your backs. I get it that I'm your son and you don't want me hurt, but on the job we all gotta be a team. If I get special attention, it could screw everything up, 'cause it'll distract you from everything else going on around us."

"Alright. I'll try." His mom gave in with a sigh.

Dean knew that this wasn't easy for her. Or his father. If truth be told, it wasn't easy for him either because he was afraid of his parents getting injured or worse. Especially since he was terrified of the idea that they might sacrifice themselves to keep him safe. Dean knew that he'd give his own life up for his family without a second thought, but he didn't want it to work the other way around. _Yeah, I'm a damned hypocrite. So freakin' sue me._

An hour later, Dean was getting nervous. Cyclops had yet to make an appearance and that was unexpected. Unexpected crap on a hunt was never a good thing. The ghost had to know that they were there by now. Either he was leaving them alone because he didn't consider them a threat (which made no sense after he had previously attacked a little girl), he was scared of them (yeah, right), or he was waiting for the right moment. Dean wondered what that moment would be.

With a crack, the ugly tree that Cas was digging around broke and fell. The angel spared it a quick look before going back to his job. Dean was impressed with how well his friend was adjusting to this new life. During the day, Cas would help out around the Winchesters' home, research stuff with Dean, and participate in the hunter training. At night, he'd accompany Dean into the dream-world where they'd goof off and just enjoy themselves, sometimes going places and having fun, other times just quietly hanging out and resting. Dean didn't know what the angel's day to day life was like before they'd gone back in time but it couldn't possibly have many similarities to this. Yet Cas never complained. And Dean was beyond grateful to have a friend from his previous life with him. No one in this world would ever understand him the way that Cas could. And it appeared that with some training and guidance, the angel made a halfway decent hunter. Although Dean still wouldn't trust him with the human interaction portions of the research for the hunts.

"I do not believe this is the right spot." Cas called out.

"Well, try the next tree." Dean's father responded.

Dean continued scanning the area. Then he saw a flicker right near his mom.

"Mom! Get down!" He screamed.

She dropped out of sight just as the ghost of Trenton Craig appeared. Dean aimed and fired. The salt bb left the gun and flew right into the spirit, dispersing it on impact.

"Everyone get to Mom's dig site! There's a reason it went for her!"

His dad and Cas obeyed without question. It was weird barking orders to his own father and having the man listen to him.

Dean stepped over to the group and stood close by, guarding them. Some ghosts stayed away for a long time once dispersed, while others were gone for mere seconds. Now that Ol' One-eye showed, Dean knew that he'd keep popping up until his ugly ass was fried.

The boy shifted from foot to foot impatiently. He'd never been too good at the waiting game and had bugged the crap out of Sam with his fidgeting during downtime, but now that problem was even worse. It seemed that children had no ability to stand still at all. And the flood of conflicting emotions drowning his brain didn't help the situation either. But he didn't have to worry about that for too long. The ghost appeared to his right, practically growling at him in rage.

Dean spun around and fired. The salt dispersed the spirit once again. This was actually kind of fun. And it made him feel more like himself. Well, like his adult-self, anyway.

He saw something flicker out of the corner of his eye and turned to fire. But then the small hunter froze. The ghost was not huge, bald, and missing an eye. As a matter of fact, the spirit wasn't even a dude. There, in front of him, was a very attractive dead chick. She was probably only just above five foot and had long red hair and delicate features. She was dressed in a light, thin-strapped summer dress and sandals. She looked at him with large, frightened looking eyes. Dean hesitated, trying to figure out who she could be. Then the woman's face shifted to a look of murderous insanity and she charged forwards, coming right at him.

"Leave him alone!" She shrieked.

Dean pulled the trigger and watched her disappear.

"What the hell? Who was that?" Dean exclaimed, looking around wildly, half expecting more ghosts to start appearing at any second.

"I think that was Trenton Craig's wife." His mom replied.

"His what?"

"His wife. The reports I found said that he was married. But when the cops went to question her, they couldn't track her down."

"And I'm just finding out about this now?" Dean knew that he shouldn't use that particular tone with his own mother, but he couldn't help it. He hated it when unknown complications suddenly came up in the middle of a hunt.

"Honestly, I thought that she was either one of his victims or that she took off when she found out that her husband was psychotic."

"Well, since she's popping her ghostly head up here, I'd wager that she was more an accomplice than a victim."

"Well, why didn't that little girl report seeing her ghost too?" His dad asked.

"Dead-chick only seemed to show up when the mentally unstable love of her un-life was in danger."

"But no one ever reported Craig working with a small woman when he robbed the houses." His mom pointed out.

Dean thought it over for a moment, still keeping an eye out for either ghost. "Most likely, she waited in the car for him. Maybe a getaway driver. If he never came back out from this house, she may have gone looking for him."

"And if the guy who lived here was forced to kill her too, he definitely wouldn't have called out the cops." Dean's father finished his son's thoughts.

"Sorry I didn't say anything about her."

Dean had calmed a bit and so he sent his mom a shrug and a smile. "It's okay. We never would've suspected her or predicted that she'd be a vengeful ghost bitch, so it wouldn't've mattered anyways."

"If there are two ghosts, shouldn't we have two lookouts just in case they both show up at the same time?" His dad questioned.

"Look at Dad, becoming a hunter already." Dean commented. "Nice planning. Mom, drop the shovel and grab a gun. You cover Dad, I'll cover Cas."

As soon as his mother had picked up a shotgun, Dean stepped closer to the angel and looked around the area again. Nothing. That wasn't a good sign. No way in hell had the spirits been scared off, which meant that they were possibly planning something. And he doubted that it would be something nice.

His father's plan turned out to be a very good one as both spirits appeared simultaneously; Cyclops right near the eldest Winchester and dead-chick behind Cas. The shotgun was so much louder than the airgun and if he hadn't felt the kickback and then seen the ghost bitch disperse, Dean might've even questioned if his weapon had fired. But it had and in the space of a second, both ghosts were gone.

"Oh, yeah!" Dean called out. He felt almost giddy with excitement. His physical age seemed to amplify positive emotions just as much as it had the negative ones. But the young hunter made sure not to let it distract him from the job at hand. That would be dangerous.

His attentiveness couldn't save him though when just moments later, One-eye popped up just inches to his left. The boy didn't even have the time or the space to turn and aim, let alone fire his weapon, when the ghost grabbed him and threw him to the ground. Dean let out a cry as his small body hit the ground. The air was forced out of him on impact, but he could already tell that he'd gotten no real injuries from the attack.

A shot rang out and the angry-looking ghost hovering over him disappeared.

"Thanks, Mom! I fine! Stay where you are and watch Dad's back!" Dean called out. He didn't want her to leave her position and rush over to him.

The boy had just propped himself up on his elbows and was getting ready to stand when the ghost chick appeared next to him. She lifted him into the air and threw him even further than her husband had. Damn, but she was strong for a little thing. Like he was one to talk about size, right?

Dean's body hit the fence to what had once been the vegetable garden and went right through. He grunted as he hit the ground hard for the second time in only a minute. He'd have to find some way to thank Bobby for this 'easy' hunt.

Dean tried to sit up again but the ghost bitch appeared right over him. The small hunter tried to scoot back and away from her, cursing the fact that he always seemed to lose his freakin' weapon in these situations. He heard Cas call to him and was about to yell back that he needed some help when the dead chick plunged her icy-cold hand into his chest.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Cliffhanger! Yay! Awesome! I Love Cliffhangers!... I'm sure that's what you're all saying right now, right? Or are you plotting my death again? Either way, I hope that you all enjoyed. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	31. A Hunter's Job

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! I'm back with another update for the week! But first I want to thank Wunjo, numb3rs mystery, snseriesfan, Gustin azza, VGiselleH, Taeriel, FireChildSlytherin5, Nyx Ro, jazzy2may, savannaharaiza5, Irishred79, BranchSuper, GhibliGirl91, roy23, LilyBolt, apshep10, Genessis Mendez, Star-Simple-Dust, RoseDragon666, androidtracker , and Hasmik Aharonyan for their wonderful reviews. I can't believe I've hit over 600 reviews! Your support is amazing guys! Thanks!_

**Chapter Thirty-One: A Hunter's Job**

Castiel saw his young friend get thrown through an old wooden fence by the female spirit before she flickered out of sight. He was debating on whether to keep digging or go to Dean's side. While he wanted to be with the small hunter and make sure that he was okay, the angel knew that the only way to end this for real was to find the bodies. But he had to make sure that Dean was alright.

"Dean! Are you okay? Do you require help?"

At first there was no response, but then a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. It was Dean's high, childish voice and it was filled with pain. Castiel turned to the boy's parents.

"Keep digging. We have to end this. I'll get Dean."

Dean had been coaching him over the last month and a half on how to act like a normal human. Don't tell the whole truth all the time, don't question every expression that people say, don't comment on how odd others may act, and don't teleport to somewhere that you could easily walk to. Castiel felt that he'd been doing a pretty good job with most of these human rules. But now he was going to break that last one. It would save him at least thirteen seconds if he appeared at Dean's side rather than running to him and having to climb over the broken fence. So, the angel dropped the shovel and picked up the iron rod. Then he willed himself to be with Dean.

It wasn't until he'd reached his friend that Castiel saw the female spirit crouched down next to the boy. Her hand was in Dean's chest as the boy writhed on the ground and whimpered in agony. Castiel didn't hesitate. He swung his weapon and watched the ghost disperse as the iron disrupted her form. The angel dropped to his knees next to his friend.

"Dean? Dean, are you alright?"

The child who was once a fully-grown hunter groaned but tried to nod. His little hands came up the clutch at his chest and his entire body trembled. Castiel unzipped and opened the small winter coat and placed a hand on the boy's chest to feel his heart beat. It was all wrong; beating rapidly, then stopping only to start again but too slowly and then picking up pace until it was much too quick. Dean continued to convulse, his back raising up off the ground and then slamming back down. But despite the frightening sight before him, the angel sensed that the boy would be okay. There was no permanent damage done. Dean would just have to ride out the after effects of the spirit's vicious attack.

When Dean's large, pleading eyes met his, Castiel gently pulled the small body into his lap and held him close. The trembling was bad but not as terrible as his seizures that had been brought on by the nightmares, so the angel wasn't too concerned. Well, okay, that was a lie. He had always been worried about his friend and it had increased when Dean's size had decreased, especially when the boy was facing down supernatural creatures. But Castiel respected his friend too much to treat him as a child and try to shelter him from the jobs that Dean had to do. That didn't mean, however, that he wouldn't be there for the young hunter whenever he was needed.

"Oh my God! Is he okay?"

Castiel turned his head to see Mary standing over them, staring down at her son with a look of horror on her face.

"M…mom? Wh…what are you… Dad…" Dean managed to choke out.

Castiel understood immediately. "Mary, you have to get back to John. He shouldn't be without backup."

"But Dean…"

"I have him. Go."

With a reluctant glance back at her son, Mary turned to go back to her husband. Castiel understood her desire to make sure that Dean was alright, but she'd done exactly what her son had feared and forgotten her job when she got scared for him. A dangerous mistake.

"Ahhh!" John's voice rang out and Castiel stood up holding Dean in one arm while picking up his iron rod from where he'd laid it on the ground with the other.

Once he was standing, Castiel could see John lying on the ground near the hole they'd dug, one shovel still held in his hand while the other was being wielded by the male spirit. Blood trickled from a wound on John's head. It wasn't too hard to guess what had happened.

Dean's head rested on Castiel's shoulder as the angel held the still trembling boy against his left side tightly. The small hunter moaned and tried to turn his head to see what was going on. Mary lifted her shotgun and fired the salt rounds into the spirit. She was at her husband's side almost before the ghost had completely disappeared.

Castiel carried Dean back over to his parents. John was just sitting up, looking dazed but relatively okay. Mary helped him to his feet. They were about to head over to Castiel, but the angel shook his head.

"Dean will be fine. Finish the job."

John blinked at him, somewhat confused, but climbed carefully back into the hole. A moment later, dirt began to be thrown out. Mary stood holding the shotgun and scanning the area, obviously struggling not to keep checking on Dean. And as for Dean, his tremors had finally ceased and his heart rate and breathing seemed to be returning to normal.

"Put me down, Cas." His young friend ordered.

Castiel took a moment to make sure that the boy's body was working well enough and then placed Dean on his feet. The angel was pleased to see that he didn't stumble or sway at all. He could tell that the child was embarrassed about being carried around during a hunt, but was trying to save what he felt was left of his dignity. Castiel retrieved Dean's weapon and handed it back to him.

"Are you well enough to…" He never got a chance to finish the question as Dean raised the airgun and fired it. The shot went over the angel's shoulder. Castiel wondered which of the spirits Dean had just protected him from.

The boy smirked up at him, his young face only slightly pale. "That give you your answer?"

Castiel allowed a small smile to grace his lips. "A simple 'yes' would've worked as well."

"But that was perfect timing and so much cooler."

Castiel didn't dispute that. Instead, the angel rejoined John in the task of digging up the remains. No one had mentioned the fact that there was a chance that the two bodies might not be buried in the same spot. But, as Dean would say, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

A short cry rang out and Castiel recognized the voice as Mary's just seconds before she crashed into her husband. It seemed that these spirits enjoyed throwing people around. If only they realized that all they'd accomplish is delaying the inevitable and angering the Winchesters. And the angel was quite certain that many people and creatures would agree that angering the Winchesters was not a very intelligent move.

The airgun went off again as Dean's voice yelled out "Stay the hell away from my family!"

Mary and John both got to their feet. As the woman climbed back out, her husband picked up the shovel to continue his job. Castiel saw that the blood had almost finished oozing from his head wound, signaling that it wasn't as bad as it had first appeared. A moment later, the eldest Winchester called to the others.

"Found something!"

"A chest fulla gold doubloons?" Dean asked.

"You're a barrel of laughs, son." John shook his head and then winced at the motion. "It's a hand."

Castiel helped the man clear out all the dirt from around the corpse. They both ignored the sound of the guns going off. They had to stay focused on the job at hand. When the body of the man was almost completely exposed, Castiel saw a female's foot lying on his dirt encrusted trousers. He pointed it out to John and they exchanged looks of relief. They wouldn't need to try and find the second body.

Castiel was pleasantly surprised at how well John Winchester was handling their unique situation. He knew full well all of the terrible mistakes that the man had made in the original timeline and had feared that they wouldn't change. Then, when John had reacted so poorly at first, the angel had assumed that his fears had been confirmed. But over the last few weeks, John had been more a father to Dean than he had in all the years he'd lived the first time around. Castiel was pleased, as he hadn't wanted to have to step in and try to change the man himself, which he would've done if it had come to that. He wasn't going to let Dean be treated like little more than a soldier all over again. His friend deserved better than that.

It took not much time at all to completely unbury the two bodies. Then, he and John climbed out of the hole they'd dug so that they could cover the corpses in salt and fuel and burn them.

As soon as he'd reached the top, something pushed him backwards. At first, the angel assumed that it had been one of the spirits, but then he realized that Dean had thrown his small body into him in an attempt to knock him over. Trusting the young hunter, Castiel allowed himself to fall backwards and saw a shovel fly over his head at an incredibly fast speed. Dean had just saved him from sustaining a similar injury to what John had.

"Thank you."

"No problem." Dean rolled off of him after they heard the shotgun fire.

The boy grabbed the container of salt from the bag and tossed it to his father. Castiel picked up the gas can. After John was finished, the angel doused the bodies with the fuel. Then he watched as the hunter-in-training lit a match and dropped it in. Both spirits reappeared just in time to incinerate along with their earthly remains.

John's eyes widened at the sight, but the other two humans merely sighed in relief. Then they started packing up their supplies.

"You shouldn't've come looking for me, Mom."

"That ghost threw you, Dean. I heard you scream."

"Yeah, but Cas had already got to me. You left Dad without any backup. I told you not to do that."

"I know I shouldn't have left your father alone but what was I supposed to do?"

"Watch his back! That was your job."

"Being a mother is also my job." She shot back.

Castiel suppressed the desire to groan and shake his head. He had known that this was coming, but had hoped that they'd wait a while.

"Not while we're hunting, it's not. When we're out like this, you gotta stop treating me like a kid."

"You _are_ a kid, Dean."

And that was the wrong thing to say.

"No, I'm not! I'm a hunter, Mom. I got my ass kicked out in the field a million times and survived just fine without being coddled."

"I had to know that you were alright."

"And if the freakin' ghost killed Dad rather than just cracking his skull? Then what?"

"Dean…"

Whatever her response would've been was cut off by the sound of sirens getting closer. Apparently, the neighbors had finally decided to call in the shotgun blasts they'd heard to the police.

"Perhaps this discussion can wait until we are not in a position to get arrested?" Castiel suggested.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea." John quickly agreed.

"Fine." Dean mumbled and turned, but not before Castiel saw him swipe his sleeve across his face. The stress and emotions of the moment had obviously been too much for him in his current condition. Castiel felt bad for him but knew Dean well enough to not mention it.

The group crowded around Castiel and he quickly transported them all back to Bobby's house. The hunt had been a success, and hopefully the issues that had come about because of it would be resolved just as well.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed! See, everyone lived through the hunt mostly intact... I _can _be nice when I want to... Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	32. Lessons

_**Author's Note: **Hey there everyone! Hope you're doing well. I want to thank numb3rs mystery, Psychee, Gustin azza, snseriesfan, Invader Kiwi, Hasmik Aharonyan, FireChildSlytherin5, Nyx Ro, LilyBolt, Taeriel, VGiselleH, BigTimeGleekBTR, savannaharaiza5, Wunjo, roy23, BranchSuper, guess if ya can, GhibliGirl, RoseDragon666, Genessis Mendez, Silvermoon of Forestclan, and Stone120 for their awesome reviews. _

**,Chapter Thirty-Two: Lessons **

Dean tried to reign in his emotions as they all appeared in Bobby's living room. His back was a little sore and probably bruised and his chest still felt tight and a bit painful but all in all he was okay. But his dad had gotten a pretty nasty looking head wound and it was all his fault. If he'd been more alert, faster, stronger, and a better hunter then the ghost wouldn't have been able to throw him and his mom wouldn't have had to leave her post to check on him and his dad wouldn't have gotten hurt. Their first hunt together as a family and he'd screwed it up. The story of his life.

"Well, yer all alive. Better than what I'd expected." Bobby commented.

Dean shrugged his shoulders and walked past the others. "Gotta take a pee." He muttered.

"What the hell happened?" Dean heard Bobby ask as he trudged out of the room. He purposefully didn't wait around to listen to the answer though, not wanting to hear a blow by blow account of what he'd done wrong.

Was he a little pissed at his mom still for forgetting her hunter training and running after him? Sure, he was. He'd specifically told her not to do it and she hadn't listened. But when it came down to it, he remembered all the times that he'd thrown his own training out the window, along with his common sense, to rush to Sam's rescue. He'd felt responsible for his younger brother and had done whatever it took to protect him. Dean had been stupid to believe that his parents wouldn't feel the same way about him. But it was such a foreign concept. His dad had certainly never shown that level of concern for him growing up. If he was hurt, Dad would merely finish up the hunt and yell at him for his mistakes afterwards. Being looked after and taken care of was going to be a hell of an adjustment for him. But he had to get used to it and figure out how to stop his parents from risking themselves for him.

Once he was safely alone in the locked bathroom, Dean sat on the closed toilet seat and hung his head. He had to admit that the hunt could've gone far worse, but he couldn't find it in himself to be positive. Because there was always the chance that his parents had finally seen him for the pathetic screw-up that so many others had told him he was.

Dean swiped angrily at his face. Tears again. When had he become such a cry baby? Oh, yeah, when he'd woken up in this tiny, good for nothing body. But no. Dean Winchester didn't do tears. Dean Winchester didn't cry. Dean Winchester got pissed. The boy hopped up and punched the wall. Once. Twice. Three times. Over and over until his small fist was screaming in pain. He wanted to lash out with his feet too, but that seemed far too close to a temper tantrum and he wasn't going to go there.

Finally, he stopped and cradled his throbbing right hand. Great. His left arm was still in a cast and now his right knuckles were bruised and bleeding. Just perfect.

Luckily, no one had come running at the noise he'd made. He did not want to explain this to anyone at the moment. Or maybe luck had nothing to do with the fact that no one had heard him. It was far more likely that all the yelling going on in the other room had drowned out any sounds he'd made.

Dean crept up to the bathroom door, unlocked it, eased it open, and then slipped quietly into the hall. Once he'd almost reached the doorway to Bobby's living room, he stopped and pressed himself up against the wall. This seemed like the kind of thing that was best overheard from another room.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Mary forced herself not to follow her son as he left the room. She knew that he was lying about needing the bathroom and that he just wanted to be alone. Surely after everything that night, she could grant him that much.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked.

She turned to face the man and tried to think of a response. She was saved by an angel.

"We got rid of the problem." Castiel stated.

"Well, don't overwhelm me with all those details." The older hunter muttered.

Mary couldn't help but smile. She was beginning to understand why her son was such good friends with this man. "We were digging in the spots that we had decided were the most likely for Trenton Craig to have been buried."

"So, ya figured out the ghost's name. Good fer ya."

"Well, we'd figured out one of them." John mumbled, gingerly touching his head wound. Mary was glad that he was ex-Marine, as most civilians would've just stayed down after receiving a blow to the head. But her husband was a tough, stubborn man. Always had been.

"One of 'em?"

That's when it occurred to her that not even expert hunter Bobby Singer knew that there had been two spirits. She suddenly didn't feel so bad about her incomplete intel.

"Yeah." She replied. "It turns out that his wife was haunting the place with him."

"It took us by surprise." John added.

"So is that how ya got yer head bashed in?"

Mary exchanged a somewhat guilt expression with her husband before confessing. "No. That was my fault. Dean got thrown by the woman's ghost and when I went to go check on him, the other ghost attacked John."

"And where were you when this was all going down?" Bobby asked Castiel in a somewhat accusing tone.

"With Dean."

"So ya both left the newest hunter by himself?" Now Bobby sounded like he was going to bite their heads off for sure.

Mary tried to keep her tone quiet but found it difficult with all the emotions that were filling the small, dingy room. "Castiel went to Dean immediately and told me to stay and watch John's back. But then I heard Dean screaming and they didn't come back right away and… and I couldn't stop myself from going to check on Dean."

"Well, next time, ya better stop yerself."

"What? But he's my son…" She practically shouted.

"Yeah, he is. And how do ya think yer son would react if he thought that he got his daddy killed? 'Cause I guarantee ya that that's exactly how he'd see it if worse came ta worse."

Mary knew that she'd screwed up, but it wasn't exactly something that she wanted to hear. "And what am I supposed to do?"

"Yer son's in a position like no one else has ever been in. And it would be a mistake ta think that any of us understand what he's going through. But yer angel here's got the best idea of it. So, Cas, what do ya think Dean's feeling when his mom here puts his daddy in danger ta go take care of him?"

Castiel looked briefly like a deer caught in the headlights and then actually scowled at Bobby for putting him in that position. But he answered anyways. "Dean likely feels as though he messed up the hunt and was a failure. He is probably thinking that he has lost your trust and respect. And he is almost certainly annoyed at being treated like a small child, especially since you told him that that is what he is."

"Ya told him that?"

Mary was beyond frustrated. "Yes, I did. I just… I know that he has more hunting experience than any of us, but he is small and can easily be injured. And he's also my son. Even if he was physically an adult, I would still worry about him. I love him."

"And that's wonderful ta hear." Bobby replied. "He's gonna need ta know that. But he's also gonna need ta be treated as an equal. With respect."

Mary knew that he was right. But she also knew that she would protect her son at all costs. And not just because he looked like a little boy. As a mother, her heart broke every time she allowed herself to think about what her first born son had already lived through in his life, and if she could stop him from having to experience even more pain… well, what kind of mom would she be if she had that chance and didn't take it?

"But…"

"Now hear me out. Ya gotta let him hunt without smotherin' the kid but I get it that yer not gonna want anything bad ta happen ta him. And he's gotta be feeling the same 'bout you both. He lost his mom and dad the first time 'round and ya better believe he's gonna be protectin' ya both as much, if not more, than yer gonna be protecting' him. So, here's yer solution. And I know yer listenin' in, boy, so get yer little ass outta my hall and join the conversation." Mary jumped in surprise as her son sheepishly walked into the room. Oh god, he'd heard the whole thing.

"Fine, I'm here."

"Don't sulk." Bobby ordered him. "Ya say yer thirty? Act it."

"He was actually like this before I brought him back to this time." Castiel offered helpfully.

"Thanks a lot, Cas." But Dean actually smiled at his friend.

"Look, here's the deal. You can all protect each other if yer smart 'bout it. That means no one gets left alone. If the angel's with Dean and you just gotta check on him, bring yer husband with ya. Dean, you do the same when the time comes that you wanna check on one of yer parents. No one gets left alone." Bobby repeated the sentence slowly and with force behind his words. "And no one puts their own life in danger needlessly. Ya find the smartest way ta keep everyone safe. Not one of ya wants yer loved ones dying ta keep ya safe. And no selling yer souls. Think ya can handle that?"

Mary saw both John and Castiel nod, even though she wasn't sure how well her concussed husband was actually following the conversation. Dean bit his lip as he thought it all over. She saw him hesitate, but then nod too. So she followed their lead. Bobby was making sense.

"So, who's gonna finish tellin' me 'bout yer first hunt?"

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Bobby walked into the kitchen to get himself a beer after he'd taken care of John's head wound. Truthfully, he wanted something a helluva a lot stronger but the Winchesters were still in his house and he'd somehow become the damned voice of reason; something that strong liquor wasn't going to help. That family had the potential to become the best hunters out there, if only they could get their acts together and figure out how to work with each other under their strange set of circumstances.

"I don't suppose you'd wanna give me one of those too?"

Bobby turned to see Dean looking at the can in his hand. Bobby popped the top and took a long gulp before answering. "Nope. You'd die of alcohol poisoning after yer first sip."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"So, what ya doing in my kitchen? 'Cause yer not really dumb enough ta think I'd let ya have a drink."

Dean shrugged his small shoulders. "Don't know. Just… didn't wannna sit in there right now."

"It'll get better, boy." At Dean's skeptical look, Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder. "It will. Yer parents'll get used ta hunting with ya and you'll get used ta them. That's why you guys needed this easier hunt ta start off. Imagine how yer mom woulda reacted had a werewolf gone after ya."

Dean's eyes widened at the thought. "Yeah, that wouldn't've been pretty."

"Ya know that she's always gonna act like a mom, right?"

"Yeah, I get that. Don't think I really thought it over much before now, but I get it. It's just…"

"Ya ain't really a kid and don't wanna be treated like one."

"Yeah."

"Get used ta it. It ain't gonna go away." When Dean went to protest, Bobby held up his hand. "But if ya keep doing yer job, you'll prove that ya ain't just a little boy and that's when it'll get easier on everyone."

"I guess you're right."

"You've known me fer years and yer just realizing now that I'm always right?" Bobby teased.

"Says the idiot that stuck around as a ghost after he died." The child's teasing tone softened the words.

"I think yer making that up."

"No way. You just have issues accepting the truth."

"Whatever ya say boy."

"You mean to say that whatever I say is always right, huh, old man?"

"'Old man'? I'll show you old."

"I'm lookin' at old." Dean shot back, grinning.

"Well, least I ain't still in diapers."

"What? I don't wear diapers! I was potty trained at, like, two or something."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Ya keep telling yerself that, Pre-school."

Dean made a face. But his scowl was disrupted by a huge yawn.

"Ya better get yerself and yer family home and into bed."

Dean didn't even bother to argue. But he did send Bobby a grateful look before he turned and left the kitchen.

Bobby shook his head. That family was going to have to figure out how to work together without getting themselves killed for each other. The hunter ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him that he himself would most likely put his own life on the line to protect this boy that he'd only just met.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed. Yeah, the Winchesters have some major adjustments to make, huh. Next chapter will probably be skipping a month or so into the future (well, it's still the past, but you get my meaning). Please leave a review to let me know what you think. _


	33. The Day Dean Never Had

_**Author's**** Note:** Hey everyone! As I mentioned last time, we're skipping ahead a little over a month now and hopping in to a bit of an emotional chapter. But I hope you like it... because it's a bit longer than usual. But first, I want to thank Silvermoon of Forestclan, numb3rs mystery, savannaharaiza5, Nyx Ro, Invader Kiwi, FireChildSlytherin5, VGiselleH, guest, FireAngel5683, roy23, Gustin azza, Genessis Mendez, BranchSuper, Eliza Ghost, snseriesfan, LilyBolt, BigTimeGleekBTR, RoseDragon666, elfinblue, Dazja, and Wunjo for their wonderful reviews. The support you all give me for this story is just plain awesome!_

**Chapter Thirty-Three: The Day Dean Never Had**

Dean yawned as he opened his eyes. As soon as Cas' hand was off of his head, he stretched his arms out and sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around his brightly lit room, smiling as the sunlight warmed his body. And somehow, it didn't feel as cold as a late January morning should. A glance at the clock showed that it was eight-thirty.

"Dude! What the hell, Cas? Why'd you wake us up so late?" Normally, the angel had them up by seven so that Dean could eat breakfast with his family before his dad left for work. The boy found that he was extremely disappointed that he'd missed seeing his father that morning.

"Sorry. I must have lost track of the time."

Dean climbed out of bed and trudged over to his dresser. Climbing up on the stepstool that his parents had gotten for him, the boy opened his top drawer and pulled out a pair of grey underwear and matching socks. Okay, they had started their lives off as white, but this is what happened when John Winchester tried to help out with the laundry. Then Dean opened the next drawer down to select a shirt. He decided on his navy blue 'future firefighter' t-shirt layered under a blue and black plaid flannel. A pair of jeans completed the outfit.

Cas had already left the room, so Dean got himself dressed and then went to the bathroom to use the toilet. He ran his fingers through his short hair in his version of combing it and then left the bathroom. He'd long since gotten used to not shaving.

The boy reflected once again on how much easier it was to get ready in the mornings since he'd gotten his cast off a couple weeks ago. And it wasn't a moment too soon as the itching on his skin had threatened to drive him crazy. His arm was as good as new now. Well, there were scars from where the bone had broken through the skin and where the doctors had operated, but scars were something that Dean could handle.

All set to begin his day, the young hunter headed for the stairs. He really wished that he hadn't gotten up so late, but then again, they'd all stayed up late the night before planning for their next hunt that was coming up in just two days. There hadn't been much research to do since his dad had done it all the first time around. But they did look over a map of the area and plan out where each one of them would have to be and how they'd stop the werewolf. Dean was a little apprehensive because of what had happened last month during the salt and burn, but they'd gone over their plans, hunting rules, and worst case scenarios. They were as ready as they'd ever be.

Dean jumped down the last three steps and stopped dead in his tracks. Balloons and streamers decorated every inch of the living room. His mom was holding Sammy, and his dad and Cas were on either side of her. And hanging above their heads was a large colorful banner that read 'Happy 5th Birthday Dean!'.

"Happy Birthday!" His parents exclaimed at almost the same time.

"What… what's all this for?"

"It's your birthday, silly." His mom informed him. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"No." Dean replied quickly. But in truth, he had forgotten. He hadn't really had his birthday celebrated like this since he had turned four and with the upcoming hunt, the day had completely slipped his mind. When he'd been younger, his dad had occasionally remembered to bring him a small gift (although almost never on his actual birthday) but as he'd gotten older there had been nothing of importance to mark the day. But this… this was just plain awesome.

"Well, don't just stand there. Get over here so we can start the celebration!" How was it that his dad's orders were just so much more fun to follow now than they'd ever been in the first timeline?

Dean ran over to his family and on an impulse he hugged his father. The man picked him up and threw him in the air. After catching him, his dad gave him to his mom, who'd handed a squealing baby Sammy over to Cas. She held Dean tightly and then placed him back down on his feet.

"So where's the birthday cake?" Dean asked.

"You haven't even had breakfast yet." His mom pointed out.

"Cake makes a wonderful breakfast." The boy informed her.

"I think we should start the day with something healthier." She countered.

"Actually, most breakfast cereals and pastries don't have any more nutritional value than a dessert would contain." Castiel spoke up.

"See! How can you argue that logic?" Dean exclaimed.

"Like this: I'm the mom and I say no cake for breakfast."

"That's not a real argument." Dean muttered under his breath.

After a breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages, and pancakes, the Winchester parents got up from the table and went to the coat closet. Dean watched curiously as they took all the winter jackets out.

"Where're we going?"

"It's a surprise." Was all his dad would say.

"I don't want it to be a surprise."

"Tough."

"C'mon, can't you just tell me?"

His mom smiled down at him. "Get your coat on and get in the car and you'll find out."

"Cas?"

"I don't know anymore about our destination than you do."

"And I'm supposed to believe you after you conspired with my parents to keep all this a secret from me?" Dean gestured to the decorations adorning the living room.

"I promise you that I know nothing more about the activities for the day."

"We didn't tell him anything." Dean's father confirmed.

In desperation, Dean turned to the last member of the family he had left to interrogate. "Alright, Sammy, what's going on? You know something, so spill."

The almost-nine month old giggled at him.

"Just put your coat on Dean." His dad instructed.

With a sigh of resignation, the boy did as he was told.

Something in the back of his head was trying to speak up during the whole car trip to tell him that he should know where they were going. But he was unsure of how he could know. After all, he hadn't even remembered that today was his birthday.

The car ride took about an hour. Dean sat in the middle of the back seat, between Sammy's car seat and Cas. For a while, the boy had tried to look out the window and figure out their destination, but after a few minutes, he'd lost interest. Thus, Dean was caught off guard when the Impala pulled into a parking spot and came to a stop. He climbed out after Cas and looked around. When he saw the building, he just stared at it. Dean couldn't believe that they were actually here.

"Now, I know that you're not really a kid anymore, but even _I_ still find these places interesting, so I'm hoping that you won't think that this is too lame. But I did promise you this trip for your birthday months ago and I couldn't go back on it just because things got a little complicated." His dad's explanation seemed to reach him from a million miles away as Dean continued to stare. "I'm sure you've been to plenty of these places before, so I guess I missed out on giving you you're first trip to the aquarium, but…"

"No." Dean interrupted. "No, I've never been to one of these." He could tell that his own voice sounded far off as he tried to snap himself out of all the memories and emotions that just seeing this large, concrete, metal, and glass building were drawing out of him. "I wanted to. You'd promised, I remembered that, but we never went. For years when I was little, I would try to find a hunt that was in an aquarium so that we'd have a reason to go. But I never found one. And then, when I was older, it just… it wasn't the same if I went by myself." Dean stopped talking as he remembered staying home from school the day they had had a fieldtrip to the aquarium. It had been silly of course. By that time he was certain that his father would never make good on that promise to bring him to one, but part of him had wanted to wait for his dad just in case. And now… now it looked like all his waiting had paid off. He was about to go into his first aquarium with his family by his side. Snapping out of the emotional daze, he turned to his parents and Cas with a grin. "Well, what the hell are we waiting for? Let's go in!"

His mom pushed the stroller with Sammy in it while Dean ran ahead with the other two adults not too far behind. It was anything but lame. The tanks were filled with all sorts of sea creatures from brightly colored fish, to whales, sharks, seals, jellyfish, eels, and an array of other bizarre things. He held Sammy up so the baby could see some of the attractions and when the tanks were too high even for him, Dean sat on his dad's shoulders. He got to reach into a tank to touch the starfish and manta-rays and laughed when the ray swished its tail and splashed water all over Cas. He got his picture taken sticking his head into the mouth of a large shark statue right before an attendant told him that he wasn't allowed to climb on the exhibits. They finished the trip off in the gift shop where his mom bought him a black t-shirt with a picture of shark teeth and the words 'Watch Out, I Bite' and Dean used the money he had to buy Sammy the stuffed starfish that the baby was eyeing.

On the way home, they stopped off at a pizza restaurant. Dean filled himself up on garlic breadsticks and pepperoni pizza but still made room for the ice cream sundae his parents ordered him for desert. He even shared a bit with Sammy, who went wide-eyed at the taste of the hot fudge.

Once they got back to the house, Dean flopped down on the couch, feeling a bit tired after the busy day. He knew better than to sleep without Cas around to help keep the Hell memories away, but he could still rest up a bit. The boy lay on his side, watching Sammy happily crawling around the room. Dean's eyes kept straying to the balloons, streamers, and banners decorating the room. It was his birthday and they had thrown him a party. He was still having a hard time processing it.

"Hey buddy, you just going to lie there or are you going to get up to open your presents?"

Dean sat up and looked at his dad, who'd just entered the room holding brightly wrapped packages.

"Presents?"

"No birthday is complete without gifts." His mom informed him, stepping up behind his father. Cas suddenly appeared on the couch next to him, causing Dean to jump.

His dad cleared his throat to get the boy's attention. "Now, we did get you most of these before the events in November, but we got rid of the stuffed dinosaur and the bath toys, so there shouldn't be anything too babyish."

Dean nodded as his dad placed the stack of presents down on the ground in front of him. He tore the paper off of the first one. It was a new baseball glove.

"Your old one had been getting small on you. I thought you'd be doing little league again, so…" His dad shrugged.

"Thanks." Dean responded. He opened the next. It was a denim over-shirt, obviously a gift picked out recently. The next was a remote controlled car. Dean assured his parents that even thirty wasn't too old for one of those. And finally the board game 'Battleship'. Dean grinned as he thanked his parents only to have his dad hold up a hand.

"Wait on that, because we're not done yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Castiel, if you don't mind…"

Dean turned to Cas who nodded his head once and then disappeared. He reappeared seconds later holding a fully assembled black and silver bicycle. Dean stared at it.

"Is that… that's for me?"

"Well, Castiel sure as hell won't be able to ride it." Dean's dad replied.

"I never had a bike." Dean admitted.

"It's been in the basement since September." His mom revealed.

"I guess it was never retrieved after the fire. And… it's not like we had room to take a bike with us." Dean couldn't take his eyes off of it. It was silly. He was in his thirties and was getting all worked up over a birthday party, a trip to the aquarium, and now a bike. But he couldn't help it. These were things that he'd accepted long ago that he'd never have and a small part of him had died with each new thing added to that list. But now… now that list was shrinking and he felt as though he was actually living rather than just being alive. It was a strange and wonderful feeling. But, being Dean, he tried to swallow back the emotion and act like this was all no big deal. "But now I got one, so all's cool. Thanks guys. It's awesome."

His parents took turns hugging him.

"I'm glad you like all the presents, sweetie."

"Enjoy them, son."

Dean spent the next few hours just having some fun. He drove the remote controlled car around the room and watched as Sammy chased it. He'd slow it down until the baby had almost grabbed it and then speed up and laugh as Sammy screeched at the car. Then Dean taught Cas to play Battleship. Afterwards, he tried out his new glove until he and his dad got scolded for playing catch inside the house. Dinner was followed by a double layer chocolate cake with a crème filling and chocolate frosting. His mom had written 'Happy Birthday Dean' in blue icing.

After they sung 'happy birthday' to him, he was instructed to make a wish and blow out the candles. Dean closed his eyes. _Please let me be able to protect my family and keep all the tragedy we suffered the first time around far away. _He blew all five flames out with one breath.

Once the cake was eaten, and man was it delicious, Dean went upstairs to take his bath. It was getting late and he was beyond tired. He was still uncomfortable with his mom staying in the bathroom while he bathed, but she insisted that five still wasn't old enough to be left alone. She did her best not to look in his direction, though, even as she helped him out of the tub. After his mom had left the room, Dean finished toweling off and then got dressed into his pajamas. The boy climbed up onto the stepstool and brushed his teeth. Hopping down, he turned off the lights and left the bathroom.

Dean was in a near perfect mood as he walked down the hall and to his room. He could hear Cas downstairs, helping his mom with the dishes, but knew that the angel would be up in a few minutes. Dean was still smiling up until he entered his bedroom. Then the smile fell. His father was sitting on his bed with an unreadable expression on his face, and the journal lying open on his lap. Dean didn't know what he'd been reading, but judging by the atmosphere in the room, it wasn't anything good. Not surprising since there wasn't anything remotely cheerful or uplifting in that book.

"Dad, what're you doing?"

'Reading."

"I can see that. But why? I told you never to read that!" Dean practically shouted as he closed the distance between them.

His dad's head snapped up. "_You_ don't get to tell _me_ what to do!"

Dean backed up at his father's tone. It was one he recognized too well. And it was usually followed by a rough shove or an object flying at him. It was the tone used when Dean screwed up really bad. But what the hell could he have possibly done wrong? And how was he supposed to react? Was he supposed to fall back to the 'good son' crap or go into rebellion mode? He was saved from deciding when his dad spoke up again.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry I yelled. I think I understand why you didn't want me to see this. But I couldn't stop myself. Today… you just… I was worried about today. I was afraid that no thirty year old was going to enjoy a birthday like your mother and I had planned. But then I watched you and you looked like you'd never experienced anything like today before in your entire life. And it made me thrilled that I could make you happy but it also made me wonder what your birthday was like last time. So I checked. And at first I was confused as to why this journal was some big secret since there's not a speck of personal information in it but then I realized the problem." Dean watched as his father raise the journal back up and listened as the man read. "January twenty-fourth, nineteen eighty-four. Went to question the witnesses today. No one would tell anything different from the police reports. They're obviously holding back information. Autopsy reports show signs of vicious mauling. The heart was missing, just like the others. Locals claim to know nothing." His dad put the journal back down. "I went to interrogate several witnesses, got a copy of the autopsy reports, and asked questions around town. That sounds like an all-day investigation to me. How about you?" Dean nodded. "It was your birthday. Your fifth birthday. Your first birthday without your mom. I wasn't there at all that day either, was I?" Dean shook his head. "Where were you?"

"In a motel room. With Sammy."

"Did I do anything for your birthday?"

"The next day, when you went out for breakfast, you also brought back a Hostess cupcake and a package of plastic army men. You apologized for not celebrating my birthday and promised to make it up to me the next year." Dean revealed.

"And did I?"

They both knew the answer to that. "No. But by then I understood more about what was going on and I didn't really expect anything."

"I was a crappy father."

"You did your best." Dean shrugged. "The circumstances were crappy, that's all."

"You'd just lost your mom, Dean! You're telling me that there were no other hunters that could've killed that werewolf while I took you to the aquarium like I had promised?" Now he was yelling again.

Dean had no response to that. Truth was, he'd spent most of his life defending his dad from stuff that maybe there was no real defense for. He was tired of it.

"I'm not going to fail you again, Dean." His dad promised. "Me, your mom, your brother, Castiel, Bobby, we're all here for you. If I start to screw up again, tell me. Even if it seems to piss me off, you gotta tell me, Dean. Because I swear that you're never going to have to spend another birthday alone again. Got it."

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good." His dad dropped the journal on the nightstand and stood up. He walked past Dean, ruffling the boy's hair as he went. "Good night, Dean. And happy birthday."

Dean stood in that exact spot for a minute after his father had left the room. Sometimes, the man reminded him so much of the John Winchester he'd grown up with but other times, he was the dad that Dean realized he could've been all along.

Dean hadn't even stopped to consider all of the changes that coming back to this time would cause when Cas had first made the offer. Saving his mom and Sam was all that he'd thought about. But now it looked like his dad had kind of been saved too. And who knew, maybe there'd be hope for Dean himself as well.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Well, not an action chapter, but I hope you all still enjoyed. And we all knew from the beginning that John was going to take a peek at that journal at some point... Next up... werewolf hunting! Please take a moment and leave a review to let me know what you thought. thanks. Also, I have plans to bring in several characters from the show and while some are at fixed points in the story and I will not change them, others are up for grabs. That said, if you'd like to, let me know in your review what character(s) you'd like to see pop up next in this. I'd really like to see what you all are thinking on that..._


	34. Night of the Full Moon

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! First off... wow! This story has been around for exactly three months now and it has gotten 706 reviews, 257people are following it, and 164 people have favorited it! In other words, your support is just amazing! I can't believe how wonderful you guys are. And I want to thank Gustin azza, numb3rs mystery, jazzy2may, lobita, Hasmik Aharonyan, Bellethiel Lindariel, FireChildSlytherin5, LilyBolt, Nyx Ro, Maddie Winchester-Campbell, Taeriel, BigTimeGleekBTR, VGiselleH, Vampy, BranchSuper, Silvermoon of Forestclan, HeddersTheOwl, snseriesfan, FireAngel5683, liebedero, GhibliGirl91, savannaharaiza5, Eliza Ghost, guest, AlElizabeth, elfinblue, RaiHopeless, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. I am so glad that everyone enjoyed Dean's birthday. And I have decided on the next character to indroduce into this story. But first: The werewolf hunt!_

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Night of the Full Moon**

The full moon was shinning almost as bright as the sun but with none of the heat. Which sucked since it was freakin' two o'clock in the morning and about two degrees below zero. Dean shivered despite his many layers and cursed the fact that werewolves didn't come out only during the summer. That would make this so much more pleasant. Well, as pleasant as killing a creature that was human 99% of the time could ever be, that was. But best not to think about that.

"Are you cold?"

Dean looked up at Castiel, who was crouched down next to him behind the overgrown bushes in the public park. "What would give you that idea?" He whispered back.

"You are shivering. That usually indicates…"

"I was being sarcastic, Cas."

"Oh. It's hard to tell your tone of voice when you're whispering."

"Excuses, excuses." Dean tried to curl further into himself to conserve body heat but it did little good. He was tiny and thin. There was no mass to generate any heat. Dean just wished that the damned creature would show up already so that they could gank its ass and go home. He was certain that his dad had come back to the motel at some point early morning in the original timeline, so hopefully this would all be over with soon. But he had no real way of knowing. The journal had no details apart from this date and the location of this park. Dean and Cas were staked out on this side and his parents were on the other side. Luckily, the park wasn't that big, so the four of them could cover the whole grounds. But still, the waiting part sucked. He was tired, cold, and bored as all hell. And just what did that mean anyhow? Bored as all hell. Hell was anything but boring; he could attest to that. Cas brought him out of his thoughts by draping his trench coat over him. "Don't you need this?"

"I'm not experiencing the cold."

Dean wasn't sure if angels really didn't get cold or if his friend was just being nice, but at this point he wasn't going to argue the gesture. "Thanks." He didn't even object when the angel pulled him close to his side and kept an arm around him. Maybe he wouldn't end this job with pneumonia after all. A few minutes passed in silence and then Dean spoke again, making sure to keep his voice very low. "Hey Cas, do you miss your life? You know, the way it was before you brought me back here?" Dean was well aware that his friend had given up all he'd known when he'd accompanied the hunter to the past.

"Which life, Dean?"

"You know… being an angel. A regular one. Not living in a normal house hiding from Heaven, babysitting Sammy, and hanging out in my dreams every night."

"I haven't been what would be considered a normal angel since I pulled you from Hell. I began to doubt. And then I rebelled against my brothers and sisters. After we averted the apocalypse, I was caught up in the civil war in Heaven and we all know how that turned out." Dean shivered again, but this time it had nothing to do with the cold. "Afterwards, I had lost myself one way or another for a long time, then spent over a year in Purgatory. Things were far from normal or ideal when I got out."

"So, I guess I screwed up your existence long before now, huh?"

"No, Dean. What I am trying to say is that right now I may not be able to return to Heaven or act as a normal angel would, and I do miss my brothers and sisters, but I have you and your family and a purpose and this is probably the most at peace I have ever been in my entire existence."

"Oh." Dean didn't know what to say to that. Any response seemed inadequate. But he was saved from having to try and figure it out when something caught his eye. "Cas, did you see that?"

"Yes. It looked human-like, but I believe it was most likely the werewolf we've been waiting for."

"Awesome." Dean whispered. "Let's get this done."

Dean took the small mirror out of his pocket and tilted it up to catch the moonlight. He angled it so that his dad could see the flashes of light and then sent his message.

_Its here_

_Where_

_Your ten_

_See it_

_Plan beta_

_Commencing_

Dean nodded to Cas. "Plan B will work best. C'mon."

Keeping low to the ground (not hard to do with his size) Dean moved into position. The werewolf would be out of the park within seconds without a reason to stay, so Cas was going to be bait. Since he was the only one who could teleport at will, he was the best choice for the job. The rest of them were going to take their posts and gank the beast. They had specifically set up their spots to cover all angles and to avoid anyone hitting each other with friendly fire. Dean dove into the shrubs and stuck the barrel of his gun out to take aim. He was ready. But part of him was kind of hoping that someone else would get the shot before he did.

When he was a kid, he had loved the idea of werewolf hunts. They were classic horror movie monsters and even though they didn't really resemble the Hollywood image, it was still exciting. But then he'd grown up and discovered that those poor guys didn't even know that they were freaks. Oh, sure there were those alpha-like ones that he'd encountered that were aware of their other lives, but for the most part, werewolves were just victims themselves, not conscious of the death and destruction that they brought to those around them. And yeah, they had to die and Dean was certain that they wouldn't want to live if they knew and could accept the truth but he still felt a little… not thrilled about killing them. And his young age and matching emotions didn't help the situation. But, as with everything in his life, Dean would do what had to be done.

Suddenly Cas appeared out in the middle of the clearing in the park not more than a few yards from the werewolf. He had his hands in his pockets and was trying to look as harmless as possible. The creature rushed him. Cas turned, blocking Dean's shot. The small hunter kept his weapon ready, just in case no one else took the shot before Cas moved. The werewolf pounced and the angel vanished. A shot rang out and a bloody spot appeared on the creature just under where its heart was. One of Dean's parents had gotten close. The monster turned its head in the direction of his dad's hiding spot and charged. Dean stood up from his spot to get a better shot and fired at the inhuman man who was dressed in a blue jogging suit. His shot hit perfectly and if his airgun packed the kind of punch that a regular gun did, the fight would be over. But as it was, his silver bb penetrated the flesh and muscles of the creature's back but not far enough to reach the heart. The werewolf ignored that hit, intent on killing the person who'd shot him first.

"Damn it." Dean growled out. He knew better than to run out into the open after the creature. It would mean certain death and would also draw his mom out of her hiding spot. Keeping to the brush, Dean ran around to try and get to his father.

He was approaching his dad's hiding spot when he saw that his father was trying desperately to un-jam his handgun. That explained why there was no second shot. Dean was almost in position but he knew that he'd never make it before the werewolf did.

The Cas appeared next to Dean's dad and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. They both disappeared. Dean grinned as the werewolf looked around in an almost comically confused way. Dean raised his weapon, finally having a decent shot. He heard his mom coming towards him, her light footfalls in the brush giving her away, but he didn't have the time to await her arrival. The beast that looked almost human had turned towards him and snarled at him, baring sharp yellowed teeth. It raised clawed hands and leapt. The young hunter fired twice, succeeding in double tapping the heart. It was as good as dead as its bulk hit the small boy.

Dean was knocked to the ground with the large man on top of him. The man made a small growl-ish noise followed by a very human sounding groan. The boy remembered Glen, panicked and begging for help as he died, unaware that he had killed so many innocent people as a werewolf and he knew that he had to get out from under this guy and get away. He couldn't go through that right now. His heart was pounding in his tiny chest and felt sick to his stomach. Then the weight was gone and he was looking up at his mother.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." Dean practically jumped up off the cold, hard ground and hurried off. Once he was far enough away that he was certain he wouldn't hear any final desperate pleas from the man he'd shot, the boy stopped and took a deep breath.

"You okay, son? You went down pretty hard."

Dean turned and looked up at his dad. "Yeah. Guy weighed a ton, but didn't do me any damage."

"Can't believe I missed the shot." Hid dad shook his head in frustration.

"You almost got it. And you were at a weird angle, so I call it a pretty sweet try." Dean praised. "But what was up with that follow through? Jammed gun? Seriously? Where'd you pick up that piece of crap?"

"Pawn shop."

"Rule of hunting: If you get a second hand gun, make sure it still works good. Bobby's gonna have your ass when he hears about this."

His dad grinned. "Then we better start thinking up a good cover story, huh?"

Dean put on his most innocent expression. "_What_? And_ lie_? But that would be wrong!"

Just then, his mom and Cas joined them. The angel looked at Dean with concern.

"Are you…"

"Word of warning; if you ask me if I'm okay, I swear I'm gonna shoot you."

"No you won't."

"No." Dean admitted. "But I'll kick you in the shins. Anyway, is everything taken care of?"

His mom nodded. "The police will be able to connect him with the local murders but there's no evidence to link us to him."

"Good." His dad replied.

"'kay, so let's go pick up Sammy, go home, crawl into bed, and sleep for the next ten to twelve hours."

"Sounds like a wonderful idea." Dean's mom agreed.

Cas stepped over to them and was about to transport them all back to Bobby's house when a voice stopped them.

"Hey! Are you kidding me? That was my hunt!"

Everyone in the group turned their heads as one to see a young man walking towards them. He was wearing jeans, a dark grey winter coat, and a black knit ski cap. He was holding a rifle, but not in a threatening way and his expression was friendly. At least it was until he caught sight of Dean.

"What the hell? Are you people nuts? You brought your kid on a werewolf hunt? What? There weren't any gangland shoot-outs in the area to take him to? Not enough dark alleys for him to stroll down?"

Dean snickered. He had no clue as to who this man was, but he kind of liked him already. But it seemed that his father wasn't as amused as he was.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but mind your own damned business."

Dean's mom tried to be the voice of reason. "Please everyone, calm down. Let's just talk this over, okay? Obviously, we're all hunters, right?" At the man's nod, she continued. "Good. I'm Mary, this is my brother Cas, my husband John, and our son, Dean. I understand your shock at seeing a small child out here, but trust me that there is a very good reason. And as you can see, he's not defenseless."

"Oh, so arming the toddler with a gun makes him safer."

"Not a toddler, dude. And since I'm the one that ganked the werewolf, yeah, giving me the gun was an awesome idea. I also noticed that you neglected to give us your name."

The man stared at Dean for a moment, obviously unsure what to make of him. But then he spoke. "Of course, how impolite of me. The name's Bill Harvelle."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed. Many of you said that you'd like to see the Harvelles and you know what? I was kinda thinking the same thing. Please take a moment and leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks._


	35. Bill Harvelle

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! So glad you all seem to be happy with the newest character added to the story. And, on that note, I want to thank numb3rs mystery, Nyx Ro, liebedero, Kershaw, MaddieWinchester-Campbell, Hasmik Aharonyan, Taeriel, Invader Kiwi, savannaharaiza5, VGiselleH, BranchSuper, Eliza Ghost, jokergirl94, Gustin azza, guest, FireAngel5683, AlElizabeth, Wunjo, FireChildSlytherin5, Rogue187, RoseDragon666, Aislynnrose2010, snseriesfan, LilyBolt, Genessis Mendez, and angelofheaven001 for their awesome reviews. I have so much fun reading them and they just brighten my day. _

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Bill Harvelle **

_Bill Harvelle. Bill Harvelle. Bill Harvelle._ The name kept playing over and over in Dean's mind as he stared wide-eyed at the man standing in front of them. The man who was Ellen Harvelle's husband and Jo Harvelle's father. The man that Dean had never met because his dad had gotten the guy killed long before he'd ever met the family. And here he was, standing before them, eyeing the family somewhat suspiciously while Dean's father was still glaring at him hostilely.

"Well, Mr. Harvelle, nice to meet you. Now take your judgmental ass and get gone." His dad turned to leave the park since there was no way that they were taking the angel taxi out of here in front of another hunter.

"Dad, wait!" Dean called out. "It's cool. _He's_ cool." Dean caught himself at the last moment. He didn't want to say too much, as a five year old shouldn't know this much about other hunters, but he was hoping that his dad would get the message. He shot Cas a pleading look.

"He can be trusted." Cas confirmed.

Now Bill was looking between Dean and Cas. The boy had hoped that the hunter wouldn't realize that Dean had spoken up to his defense first and that the angel's words would get all of the attention but it appeared that this guy wasn't going to be easily thrown off.

"So, you two have heard of me?"

"Yes." Cas replied simply.

"Uh, Cas has. And, you know, I heard from him."

"Right." Bill nodded. "And what have you heard?"

"That you're a great hunter but a sarcastic pain in the ass." Dean answered.

"Dean!" His mom scolded.

Bill laughed. "You guys better teach your boy some manners. And keep him away from other hunters. And from hunts." The last part was said pointedly.

"Did I mention something about minding your own business? Because your continued health may depend on it." Dean's dad shot back.

"Dad, just tell 'im." Dean tilted his head to the side in their signal to use their cover story. Most hunters wouldn't get any reasons for Dean being in the field. Trusted ones would get their cover story. No one but Bobby would get the truth for the moment. Dean figured that maybe the Harvelles could know the full story in the future at some point, but for now it was just safer for all involved if no one knew about Dean.

"Dean…"

"Demons are after me." Dean blurted out.

His mom sighed. "It's true. We can't tell you everything for our son's safety, but Dean knows some secrets about the demons and even helped to kill a very powerful one. They're now hunting him and the safest place for him is by our side."

"So yeah, a werewolf hunt is a lot safer for him than being left behind." Dean's dad finished, placing a protective hand on his son's shoulder.

Bill looked between them, as if trying to weigh the truthfulness of what was being said. Dean wasn't sure if it was because there was a bit of truth in their explanation or if they were just that good at lying but finally the other hunter nodded.

"I guess that makes sense. But I have to say that I'm going to do my damned best to keep my son out of all this craziness until he's a bit older than your kid."

"Son?" Dean asked, quite confused.

"Yeah. My wife's pregnant."

"It's going to be a boy?" Dean's mom questioned.

"First born Harvelles are always boys."

Dean tried not to smirk. "Good luck with that."

"You guys should stop by the Road House some time. That's a bar my wife and I own. Lots of hunters come through there. We exchange stories, jobs, information."

"Sounds great." Dean replied.

"We'll think about it." His dad spoke over his comment.

Dean rolled his eyes. Everyone besides Bill knew that they would be going. His dad just had to put on the whole alpha-hunter show. But that probably was a good thing since the five year old shouldn't be seen as their team leader anyhow. Which brought a question to Dean's mind. Who really was their team leader? He certainly had the most experience and he wasn't actually a kid, but could his parents really be expected to take orders from him? A problem for a different time.

"Well then, family that neglected to mention their last name, I'll be seeing you around." Bill shook the other man's hand and at the same time slipped him a piece of paper that most likely had the Road House's address on it. Not that Dean needed it.

The Winchesters watched Bill Harvelle walk off. Dean couldn't believe he'd just met the man. That was something he had to confess that he hadn't thought about. Sure he'd anticipated meeting Bobby. And he was looking forwards to when the time was right to meet Pastor Jim, Caleb, and even Ellen, but he hadn't ever thought about the guy that had gotten killed before Dean had ever known that he'd even existed.

Once they were sure that Bill was no longer able to see them, Cas teleported them to Bobby's house. After picking up Sammy, they headed home and got to bed, with Dean promising to fill them in on the Harvelles the next day.

And that moment came a bit too soon for the young hunter. Especially since his dad had decided to bring the topic up at the dinner table. It had been a work day for the eldest Winchester and he was exhausted after only getting two and a half hours of sleep. Dean really wished he'd picked a different moment for this discussion.

"So, Bill Harvelle… who is he, Dean?"

"A hunter."

"Yeah, I got that part. But how do you know him?"

"I don't really. I never met the guy."

"But you vouched for him. Which, by the way, was rather stupid of you to do in front of him. What the hell were you thinking? You _want_ to give yourself away? Why don't you just announce your story to the entire hunter community?"

"Right, because he's going to immediately suspect that an angel brought me back into my childhood body from an alternate future just because I said that he's cool. That makes perfect sense." Okay, maybe Dean didn't sleep too well either.

"Dean…"

"Look, I knew his wife and his daughter. Went to the Road House. They helped me and Sam out a few times."

"And Bill?"

"Dead."

His dad snorted. "That's helpful. And I'm just supposed to what, just accept that because you liked his family and their bar that the dead guy is a good hunter and can be trusted?"

"Well, you know what Dad, maybe if you hadn't gotten him killed then I would've met him and I'd be able to tell you a bit more about him." Dean knew that he was being unfair, but his dad had pushed him.

"So now this is my fault?"

"Hey, if the boot fits..."

"Okay, both of you calm down." His mom cut in.

"He's the one accusing me of killing a man we just met!"

"And you're the one who provoked him." She shot back. "Now Dean, from the beginning, nice and calm and slow, tell us what you can."

Dean took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "Fine. After Dad died, Sammy and I found out about the Road House. We met Ellen and her daughter Jo. They gave us a job and later on, Jo accompanied us on a hunt against her mom's wishes. After I almost got her killed, Ellen told Jo that Dad was the one that got Bill killed by using him as bait on a hunt when Jo was just a little girl. Anyway, the bar got destroyed later that year but they continued hunting, separately, then together until I got them both killed. Like father, like son I guess. And that's all there is to tell. May I be excused?" Dean didn't wait for a response as he climbed down off his chair and left the table, his plate still mostly full. He just didn't feel hungry anymore.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

John watched as Dean practically ran from the room. He didn't know what to think. What was a person supposed to think when he was just told that if things had turned out differently he would've used a man (a husband and a young girl's father) as bait and would've gotten him killed? The man that had so annoyed him just that morning would've ended up dead, his blood on John's hands if Dean hadn't come back in time to change things. Which brought up the same old question: should he feel guilty for something he never did? Maybe, maybe not. But he knew that he should feel bad for how he'd spoken to his son.

Sure he hadn't slept much the night before and work had not gone well and he felt like hell, but none of that was Dean's fault. He'd had a choice of taking either today off from work or his son's birthday and he didn't regret not picking this day. But after getting back so late and having to get up so early, the day had not been an easy one. So of course he'd gone and taken it out on his emotionally vulnerable son. It seemed like he wasn't going to win the father of the year award in any timeline. But he was a good enough parent to know that he was not in the frame of mind to go after his son right now. No, that would just make things worse.

"Mary, Castiel… would one of you go check on Dean please." He knew that his emotions made his voice sound gruff and far less polite than his words but that at least his wife would appreciate the effort he was putting in. After all, just a few months ago, an encounter like this would've ended with him storming out the front door and possibly not coming home until the next day. But faced with the idea that he could've lost his family, John refused to treat those he loved like that ever again. No, he had to try to keep his temper under control. Especially since he knew from his son the kind of man that he could become. John would never become that man. He'd promised Dean.

Sammy chose that moment to begin crying. John sighed. Now all the Winchester guys were upset. And it was probably his fault. Little Sammy was very close to his older brother. John was certain that it had to do with the fact that Dean was so connected with him and spent so much time with the baby. And now it seemed that Sammy was in tune with the older boy's moods. Just wonderful.

Mary picked up Sammy and began making little shushing noises. The baby shook his head and cried harder.

"I'm going to go and take him upstairs. Maybe he and Dean can cheer each other up. And don't worry; I'll get things straightened out with our wayward son. You get yourself calmed down." With a kiss to the top of his head, she was gone.

John closed his eyes and tried to make sense of all of the information and emotions that were drowning his brain. When he reopened them, nothing felt any better. And he realized that Castiel was watching him.

"What?" He snapped.

"You should not feel guilt. Bill Harvelle is not dead in this timeline. And in the other, it is my belief that you did not intend for him to die when you planned out the hunt. I too have survived when those fighting by my side have not. It is not easy but guilt and blame accomplish nothing."

"You know that makes perfect sense in theory. But are you telling me that you've never felt bad when you get someone killed?"

"No. I cannot say that."

"So angels are hypocrites just like humans are?"

"Yes."

John chuckled. "Good to know. But that's not the biggest issue of the night. I can't seem to hold my temper in. I just screamed at Dean for no reason."

"He's used to it."

John blinked. "What… you saying I did this a lot to him?"

"I believe you yourself know the answer to this question. You are trying to avoid going down a certain path, and I am pleased to see it, but that was not the case before."

"What did I put that kid through?"

"Dean would not wish for me to tell you. And I cannot betray him like that. But you're a clever man. What answers you can't guess, I'm sure you will find a way to get them from Dean eventually. But be careful not to cause him more pain as you get them."

John nodded, not sure how much of the other John he wanted to know about. On the other hand, how could he avoid pitfalls that he couldn't see?

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…_

…

Mary found her eldest son standing in the middle of his room practicing knife throwing at a corkboard hanging on his wall. And if that wasn't one of the most unnerving sights; a five year old handling small, sharp blades. Who was she kidding? Last night she'd taken him out to hunt a werewolf and handed him a gun. But still…

"Typically, when a kid storms off to their room and slams the door, it's a clear signal that they wanna be left alone." Dean informed her. Despite his words, he threw the last knife and walked over to her.

Sammy stopped crying and squirmed to be put down. Mary placed the baby on the floor after making sure that none of the blades had fallen. The baby crawled over to his big brother. Dean dropped down onto the floor next to the littlest Winchester and forced a smile to his face.

"So, you want to talk about it?"

"If I wanted to talk about it, I'd be downstairs, at the table, talking about it."

"Dean…"

"Mom…"

"You can't keep everything locked up inside."

"Always worked in the past." The boy shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

"Did it?"

"They died over three years ago. I've moved on. Doesn't matter anyways since it sure as all hell ain't gonna happen again. All three Harvelles are gonna live long, happy, healthy lives."

"Dean, did you ever stop to consider that you may be taking far too much onto those tiny, little shoulders."

"They're a lot stronger than they look, Mom."

"You may be strong, Dean, but you don't have to be strong all the time. When you want to give yourself a much needed rest from holding up the entire world, we're here to help take the weight."

This time, his smile was real. "I know. Thanks, Mom."

"Anytime, sweetie." Mary turned to leave. But before she walked out the door, she had one more thing to say. "When you're done in here, come on back downstairs and finish your dinner. And hopefully either you or your father will decide to take the first step and apologize so we can all get past this nonsense."

With that, she left his bedroom and headed for the stairs. She had a feeling that the rest of the night would be a lot calmer. Which would be nice. Especially since tomorrow was Saturday and she knew that her son was going to start bugging them to go and visit the Road House. And wasn't _that_ going to be an interesting experience?

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. Remember... reviews are what frighten Alastair away. Oh, and if anyone is interested, I am posting a weechester Easter story today called 'Easter Egg Hunter'... lots of fun and really creepy, so please check it out. Thanks. _


	36. At the Roadhouse

_**Author's Note: **Hi, Everyone! I hope you all enjoyed your holiday. I'm sorry I was unable to respond to your reviews but I was terribly busy from when I posted on thursday to when I woke up yesterday morning and had the option to reply or to write this chapter. But I do want to thank angelofheaven001, numb3rs mystery, Taeriel, AlElizabeth, Mysterious Prophetess, Gustin azza, Ghibligirl91, Nyx Ro, savannaharaiza5, FireCHildSlytherin5, Dark Knight Warrior, roy23, BranchSuper, GreyPurpleBlack, Invader Kiwi, Eliza Ghost, mellen7, sabi064, Silvermoon of Forestclan, LilyBolt, Dev's Inferno, snseriesfan, elfinblue, Hasmik Aharonyan, androidtracker, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. I'll try to respond personally to you all as soon as I get a moment. I also want to thank all of you that reviewed my two oneshots **EASTER EGG HUNTER **and **THE HUNTER WHO CRIED "APRIL FOOL'S"** . If you haven't gotten a chance yet, please check them out._

**Chapter Thirty-Six: At the Roadhouse **

It was going to be getting busy in just a couple of hours but for now the Roadhouse was quiet. Saturday afternoons weren't a big draw for customers to come to an out of the way bar. Sure they sold burgers, and fries, and other diner-type foods and they catered to families taking long road trips, but the large crowds always seemed to be hunters showing up after dark for their fix of alcohol. Bill sighed as he wiped down the counter before replacing the napkin holder on its surface. Most hunters _really_ didn't need to be drinking the levels of alcohol that they typically consumed when they stopped by. But it did make their stories more amusing. Like that guy that claimed to have beheaded a vampire with a safety-pin.

"What's the smile for?"

Bill turned to face his wife. "Just thinking of your beauty, hon."

"Wow… good line. But you can save them. After these past six months and knowing what's to come in the next three, you're never getting near me again."

"You know that it'll all be worth it as soon as you see our little baby boy's handsome face."

Ellen gave him _that_ look. The one that told him to stop handing her the BS before she crammed it back down his throat. "First off, newborn babies are not attractive at all. They are all red and wrinkly and kind of alien-like. And second off, after _she_ is born, then it will definitely be worth it because I'll be taking the following nine months off and _you_ can do all the work."

"Whatever you say, dear."

"I have you so well trained." Ellen leaned over the bar for a kiss. It was difficult since her belly was beginning to really start to swell, but still manageable. When they broke off the lip-lock, she sat up on one of the stools. "I finished inventory. We're well-stocked. The only thing I think we'll need in the coming weeks is maybe some sodas. We got all the colas you could want but we're a bit light on root beer and diet drinks."

"Diet drinks… ick." Bill pulled a face.

"Well, not everyone is a poster child for fitness, Mr. Muscles." Ellen teased.

"Are you coming on to me right after you rejected my advances?"

"Dream on."

Bill laughed as he looked around their bar. It was all set for the evening. He loved this place and their life here together. Their days were spent just hanging out together and taking care of the occasional customer that stopped by. At night they ran the bar together and listened to hunters' stories and traded their own. They also picked up extra cash selling information and hunting supplies. Bill would take a hunt every once in a while and before the pregnancy, Ellen would join him. Things were damned near perfect. Just then, the front door swung open.

Bill looked over and felt his eyes widen a bit when he saw the group of people walking inside.

"It's them." The hunter whispered to his wife. "That's the family I met on the werewolf hunt." Then he raised his voice in greeting. "Hi, guys! So glad you could all make it!"

The woman, Mary, smiled at him. "Glad to be here. We don't know many other hunters and couldn't pass up an opportunity like this."

That's when Bill noticed that the woman was holding a sleeping baby in her arms. He appeared to be somewhere around nine months old or so. The baby was wrapped up in blankets and had a tan and green hat on his head. Mary was rocking him gently and seemingly without even realizing that she was doing so. Her blonde hair was loose, unlike when she was hunting, which gave her a softer appearance. Or maybe that was just the baby in her arms. Bill wondered how Ellen would look in a few months when she'd be holding their own baby.

John was looking just as pissy as ever, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a worn, dark jacket. He clearly didn't want to be there, which begged the question of why they were there. Maybe his wife was the one really in charge? But no, she seemed more like a peacemaker than a lawmaker. The quiet fellow in the trench coat, Cas, certainly wasn't their leader. He was an odd one; Bill could tell just by the way the man carried himself. So, maybe they were here because of the kid. That drew his eyes to the final, and arguably strangest, member of the family. Dean.

The boy, who couldn't be any older than four or five years old, pulled off his hat revealing short, spiky blonde hair but that wasn't what grabbed Bill's attention. The kid was gazing around the bar with a look of a person that was coming back to a well-known, well-loved place. He seemed perfectly at home here. The boy shed his coat and tossed it on the coat rack with practiced eased. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with a picture of shark teeth and text that warned that the wearer of the shirt might bite under an unbuttoned black and brown plaid flannel. He had an unusual charm hanging around his neck.

"Well, there's some hunters that I'm certain you'll regret meeting, but you're more than welcome here." Ellen responded to Mary.

Mary smiled as the other woman approached her. "Oh, your husband said you were pregnant. When are you due?"

"May 4th. But I'm certain she'll be early. I'm betting on the last week of April. Do you want me to hold him so you can take your coat off?"

Mary only hesitated a fraction of a moment before handing the baby to Ellen. "She? Bill said it was definitely a boy."

"'All first born Harvelles are boys'. Yes, I've heard it a million times before. Doesn't change the fact that it's a girl." Ellen smiled at the sleeping baby in her arms. Bill smiled at the sight.

"Well, Joseph is a pretty funny name for a girl." Bill commented.

"But Joanna is a perfect name for a girl." Ellen replied.

"You know," Mary interrupted them. "Woman's intuition is almost always right in these cases. I knew almost immediately that Dean was going to be a boy."

"But you _did_ keep insisting that Sam was going to be a girl." John pointed out.

Mary seemed embarrassed. "Call it wishful thinking. I had a boy and everyone was saying that two would be a handful and that I needed a little girl. They had me confused."

"Likely story." John rolled his eyes and Mary playfully punched his arm.

Ellen handed the baby, Sam, back to Mary after the woman's coat was hung up. John and Cas kept their coats on.

"Well, when do the introductions start?" Ellen asked.

"Sorry, hon." Bill apologized. "This is John and his wife Mary. The boys are their sons Dean and Sam. And this is Mary's brother, Cas. I met all but Sam on that werewolf hunt I told you about. And guys, this is my lovely wife, Ellen."

"Do you have a last name?" Ellen asked.

"Winchester. Like the rifle." Dean responded, hopping up on a barstool.

"Dean." His father scolded.

"What? It's not like they could google us or nothing."

The blank stares his family gave him indicated that his comment made no more sense to them than it did to Bill. One thing was for certain, though. This kid had attitude to spare.

"Well, Winchester family, welcome to the Roadhouse." Ellen broke the awkward silence that had followed the boy's strange comment. "It doesn't look like much, but it really is a great place."

"How long you all been hunting?" Bill asked curiously.

"My whole life." Dean answered.

"That long, huh?" Bill sat next to him. He noticed that the boy kept staring at Ellen with a sad, distant look in his eyes. It was completely out of place on a child so young.

"Yep."

"I hunted when I was growing up." Mary cut in. "My family was into it. I doubt you've heard of them, though. They kept to themselves. But I got out of it when John and I married. But, as we said last time, things happened that drew us back in."

"Yeah, about that…"

John shook his head. "No details. It could put Dean in even more danger."

"It could also put you in danger." Dean added. He started spinning the barstool around in circles. Bill shook his head in amusement.

"Hey!" Ellen called out. "Careful! You'll fall and crack your head open!"

Dean shrugged. "Got a thick skull and nothin' to damage in there."

Mary groaned. "Dean…"

The boy put out a hand and grabbed onto the bar, bringing the stool to a stop. He favored his mom with a smile and then turned it on Ellen. But as he stared at Bill's wife, the smile turned sad. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, sweetie. I just didn't want you getting hurt."

"Wasn't talking about that."

"What then?"

"Nothing. But I… I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry." And damn it all if there weren't tears running down the child's face. The boy had gone from goofing off and being a smart-mouth to crying over God-knows-what in two seconds flat. Bill found himself worrying about the little guy.

Mary walked over to her son and hugged him. She whispered something in his ear and the boy nodded his head. She shook her head in return and whispered something that sounded suspiciously like 'not your fault'. Dean pulled away from her and hopped off the stool.

"Doesn't matter 'cause I'm not gonna screw it all up again!" The boy swiped at his face and was obviously trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over his emotions. And, unlike most children that age, he accomplished just that in a matter of moments.

Bill decided to give the kid a break and draw the attention away from him. "So, anyone want a drink?"

"I'd love a beer." John responded.

"I'll take one as well." Mary requested.

"Nothing for me, thank you." Cas answered.

"Root beer, please." Dean threw him a grateful smile as he reclaimed his seat, obviously aware that the man had changed the subject for the child's benefit.

"So," John began. "Not many hunters here."

"Still a bit early." Bill informed him as he slid a cold bottle of imported beer down the bar. John let the first slide past him and Mary grabbed it. John snatched up the second. Bill pulled out an ice cold root beer soda in a glass bottle and slid it to Dean. He usually used cans for the small kids but figured that this boy would appreciate a drink that looked more like everyone else's. After all, any child that went out and hunted with adults should get to 'drink' with them as well. "The crowd should start trickling in any time now. Got our regulars that live in the area, and then those that drift."

"Anyone good?"

Bill laughed. "Well, no one that could bag a werewolf at the age of four or five, but most are pretty decent. Some are slightly off their rockers, though, so watch your backsides."

"And keep yourselves in line, too." Ellen warned. "We have a strict 'no shooting the other customers' policy."

"What if they really deserve it?" Dean asked.

"Well, I _have_ been known to make exceptions." She replied with a wink.

The boy's answering grin was actually a bit disconcerting. He popped the top off the bottle using the bar top and took a swing of the soda. Bill got a feeling that this was not the first time that Dean had ever been in a bar. He was getting more and more curious as to the details about this kid and his family. There was more to the story than a demon attack.

"You know," Dean's voice broke though his thoughts. "You guys should add a bit of holy water to all of your non-bottled drinks. Maybe in the ice too so that if customers pour bottled drinks into a glass they'll get it too. Just a little precaution."

"Not a bad idea." Bill commented. "Never thought much about protection against demons before. Only ever had one possessed customer."

"Trust me. Demons can screw up everything. I can show you how to protect yourselves from them if you want."

"And what'll it cost me?" Bill asked. He was very used to the barter system.

"Nothing. But not knowing this stuff can cost you everything." Suddenly Dean didn't sound anywhere close to five years old. "You have a great place here. And a great family. You gotta keep them safe."

"Yeah," Bill agreed, glancing lovingly at his pregnant wife. "Yeah, I do."

Just then the door swung open again. Bill looked up as the entire Winchester family swiveled around to get a look at the new arrival. The young man that ran through the door was no stranger to Bill. He'd started stopping by about a year and a half ago and had an anger about him that quite frankly scared the hunter. Sure, the guy had suffered a personal tragedy (most hunters had) but he had allowed it to make him become slightly unhinged and he was consistently seeking revenge at any cost. Bill had discovered long ago that there were two types of hunters. Those who sought to save others and kill monsters and those who sought revenge. The first type were more noble and while they had their quirks and flaws, were trustworthy. The second type often ended up in a downward spiral that dragged down all who got to close to the hunter in question. And Gordon Walker, the young hunter who'd just run into the Roadhouse, was definitely in the second category.

But it wasn't just the young man that had captured Bill's attention. From, the corner of his eye, the hunter saw Dean's reaction to Gordon's entrance. The boy hadn't turned his stool completely and Bill could still see the left side of his face. Dean's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed as his lips thinned into an angry snarl. His small hand curled into a fist and his whole body tensed as if ready to spring. Bill glanced at the boy's parents and uncle, but none of them reacted with anything other than curiosity. He had no time to wonder about what was going on in Dean's head, though, as Gordon chose that moment to speak up.

"You might wanna call off happy hour tonight, Billy. Vamps are after me in a big way, and if they follow me here, I doubt it's going to be a very happy night for anyone."

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Cliffhangers are just so wonderful, aren't they? Wait... are those hellhounds gathering around my house... please call them off... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks. And again, please also check out my holiday oneshots if you're interested._


	37. Among Friends and Enemies

_**Authors Note: **Well, I was going to start the Gordon Walker fan club but after reading all the reviews, I've decided my club would be rather empty. But I do want to thank VGiselleH, Saturne, Raven, liebedero, Invader Kiwi, Hasmik Aharonyan, MaddyWinchester, FireChildSlytherin5, Taeriel, savannaharaiza5, lobita, androidtracker, numb3rs mystery, FireAngel5683, LilyBolt, Wunjo, SkyHighFan, Nyx Ro, Dark Knight Warrior, b, roy23, Gustin azza, BranchSuper, guest, Stone120, jazzy2may, angelofheaven001, if-llamas-could-fly, Genessis Mendez, celestialstarynight, AlElizabeth, RoseDragon666, and elfinblue for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Among Friends and Enemies**

Dean found himself staring, first in shock and then in barely concealed anger, at a young Gordon Walker as the man ran into the Roadhouse. Memories of this man, and all the pain he'd brought down on Sammy, slammed into the young hunter's mind with such force that he was certain he'd be thrown from the stool that he was perched on. It hadn't occurred to him that he might run into any familiar faces when he'd talked his parents into bringing him here. And meeting up with this asshole sure as hell hadn't been on his wish list. But here they were and Dean knew that he was going to have to somehow control his temper. That last thought went clear out the window when the man opened his big, fat, good-for-nothing craphole of a mouth.

"You might wanna call off happy hour tonight, Billy. Vamps are after me in a big way, and if they follow me here, I doubt it's going to be a very happy night for anyone."

The anger Dean was feeling turned into pure, white-hot rage. This idiot had just apparently led a group of vampires into a bar that was run by a young couple that was expecting a baby. And Gordon didn't even seem to care that Ellen was pregnant and about to have to fight off bloodsuckers. Dean was about to hand Walker his ass, when Bill did the job for him.

"Are you nuts, Gordon? Wait don't answer that. I've known for a while that you're straight jacket material, but this is going too far. You've brought this down on my family and you were just in here a month ago, so you know Ellen's not in fighting condition. You're an ass, Walker. A complete ass, and I have half a mind to tie you up outside the front door and hope that when they drain every last drop of your blood that they leave me and mine alone." Dean grinned evilly as Gordon paled a bit and gaped like a fish out of water. "But seeing your drained corpse might just be bad for business. So you man the door and let any hunters in, turn the civies away, and let us know when the hell you've brought us shows, got it?"

Gordon made a face. "I'm the expert here, Billy, and…"

"You aren't an expert in anything but causing trouble. You may be an okay vamp killer, but I've got more experience than you. Besides, this is my bar and I call the shots here. You got a problem with that, we can always go back to the whole 'tie you up' plan." Bill turned back to Dean and his family. "You guys want to take off? We can use the help, but I'd understand if you want to get gone. Family comes first."

"Give us a moment." Dean's dad requested.

Bill nodded and walked off to the other end of the room with his arm around Ellen's shoulders. They could hear the couple arguing in loud, angry whispers but ignored the words. They had enough to discuss themselves.

"What happens now?" His mom asked.

"I say we leave." His dad replied. Dean went to protest, but the oldest Winchester held up a hand. "This probably happened the first time around too, and we weren't here to help then either. And, by your own account, the whole family lived long past this date."

"But we _are_ here now, Dad." Dean protested. "And something just doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?" His mother questioned.

"I don't know?" Dean replied. "It's just… I know Gordon. He's a world class bastard. Tried to kill Sammy more than once. I should kill him right now just on principle. But the fact is that it just seems weird that he'd show up now, on our first trip to the Roadhouse, and bring trouble down on us all too. It just… seems… off."

"You're right." Cas spoke up. Dean turned to look at him the angel was sitting perfectly still, his eyes shut tightly. "This was not the path that the original timeline took."

"Gordon didn't get chased by here by vamps?" Dean asked.

"No. He angered the nest and they chased him. He was headed in this direction on foot but encountered a truck full of hunters on their way here as well. They came to his rescue. Two died in the encounter but the vampires were defeated and never made it this far."

"Why didn't the hunters help Gordon this time?" His father wanted to know. "Us being here couldn't have changed that.

"They are dead."

"How?" His mom gasped.

"I don't know. But we can investigate when we are done here."

"When we're done here?" His dad raised an eyebrow.

"We have to stay, Dad. I can't shake the feeling that this is all connected to me. Why else would something have changed? It's my fault that the Harvelles are in danger right now and I can't get Ellen and Jo killed again, not if I can stop it."

"Okay," His dad relented. "But we're going to be smart about this, got it?" Dean nodded. "And we're sticking to our cover story. Especially with psycho Walker here. After what you've said about what he's capable of, I don't want him knowing anything about us. And if a vampire happens to chow down on him, nobody needs to run to the rescue, okay?"

"Understood." Dean agreed, with a smirk.

Dean watched as his father walked over to Bill. "We're staying. But we need a safe place for Sammy to stay. I take it there's somewhere that your wife is going to be waiting out the attack."

"Yeah." Bill nodded. "We have a reinforced safe room in the back. No windows. One door. A trapdoor to escape if it comes to that. Ellen's got a tranq gun with a few shots of dead man's blood but it won't last long so it'll be our job to keep the vamps from finding them. Dean can stay back there too."

"No way in hell I'm hiding in some room while you guys fight for your lives. I'm in this too."

Bill gave him a skeptical look. "You think you can decapitate a vampire."

"I can sure try. And even if I don't got the strength to take the head off in one clean strike, I can incapacitate 'em long enough for you guys to finish the job. Besides, they'll take one look at me and underestimate me just like you're doing."

"He's got a point." Dean's dad placed a hand on the smallest hunter's shoulder in a show of support.

Gordon Walker had turned from his post at the door to look at them. "And you call _me_ crazy, Billy?"

"Shut it, Walker. I've known this family for a blink of an eye and I already like them a hell of a lot more than I like you. Besides, the way I hear it, the kid's a better hunter than you'll ever be. Now turn your attention back to that damned door!" Bill practically snarled that last part and Dean found his respect for the man growing by leaps and bounds. "Okay John, you got any weapons in your car?"

"Uh, we don't have our car here. We took a taxi. Didn't want to drive if I had too many to drink."

Yeah. Took an angel taxi service.

"Crap. Well, I'll have to get out my blade collection then." Bill checked behind the bar and pulled out a machete and a small sword. Dean had already noticed that Gordon was holding a machete, so that meant that they were still short three weapons. The boy knew that Cas could easily get his hands on some, but that would bring up some hard to answer questions. Bill looked up towards the ceiling and then motioned to Dean. "Hey kid, you want to help me out?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Come on over here." Dean did as he was asked and Bill placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "If you have no objections, I'm going to pick you up and get you standing on my shoulders. Don't worry, I won't let you fall. Grab on to the rafters up there and see if you can pull yourself up. There's a long, thin weapons locker up there. Shove it down and then jump. I'll catch you. Think you can do that?"

Dean nodded. "No problem. But I gotta ask; why keep it somewhere that you can't get to without a five year old kid's help?"

"Used to have a step ladder to reach it, but it got broke last week in a bar fight. I'd move a table over and stand on it, but I'd be afraid that it'd just fall apart under my weight."

"Yeah, they do look like crap."

"Hey, watch it!"

Dean grinned. "You said it first. Now we gonna do this or what?"

Bill picked him up around his waist from behind and lifted him until Dean was able to get his feet on the man's shoulders. The boy straightened and reached up as far as he could. Dean felt the hunter's fingers wrapped around his ankles, holding him steady as he stretched out and grabbed onto the rafters above his head.

"Got it!" He announced.

Bill let go and Dean leapt and began pulling his body up. He was reminded of climbing the monkey bars all those weeks ago to talk with Carrie Milton. Of course, that day he'd only had to deal with one skeevy perv, not a whole bunch of vamps, but hey, he'd take what he could get. Dean swung his legs up onto the wooden beam and crawled over to the box that Bill must've been talking about. It was long but incredibly narrow. From below, no one would ever know that it was even there. A perfect hiding place. Bill was turning out to be a pretty smart guy. When the young hunter reached the weapons locker, he called "Look out below!" and pushed it down. Dean shuffled back to where he'd climbed up and glanced down. Bill was still there. The boy wasn't sure how he felt about trusting the man to catch him. He'd feel better if it was Cas or his dad but he figured that since he was about to go into battle alongside this hunter, he better know right now whether or not this guy was dependable or not. If he found himself bleeding on the ground he'd know not to trust his family's lives in Bill Harvelle's hands. So, with that not so cheery thought in mind, Dean took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and jumped down from the beam. He felt himself drop and then two arms wrapped around him and gently stopped his fall. The boy opened his eyes and came face to face with the older hunter.

"Didn't think I'd let you hit the ground, did you?"

"Didn't know what to think." Dean did the best he could to shrug while being held by the man. "Just met you, after all."

"But you jumped." Bill pointed out.

"And now I know that you wouldn't let me hit the ground."

"You're a strange kid."

"So, it's been said."

Bill put Dean down. "Well, thanks for the help."

"Not a problem. But you might want to get a step ladder soon. It might be a while before Jo is old enough to do that for you."

"Joe? Nicknaming my kid already?"

Dean just shrugged in response, then changed the subject. "So what's in the box?"

Bill led the boy and his family over to the object and then knelt down. Dean's mom had already handed Sammy off to Ellen who was standing ready to escape to the safe room at a moment's notice. The hunter pulled a key ring from his pocket and selected a tarnished silver key. Dean inspected the weapons locker, but couldn't see a keyhole. He was about to point out this fact but then Bill pressed down on one of the wooden panels and a portion of it slid away to reveal a keyhole. Dean was impressed. Bill unlocked the box and opened it.

Dean felt his eyes widen as he looked at all the weapons stored away in the trunk. There were no guns besides an old pistol, those were probably kept behind the bar, but there was an array of antique and very valuable-looking blades of all shapes and sizes, a bow and arrows set, a mace, Chinese throwing stars, and some weapons that looked suspiciously like stuff you might see in ninja movies. It was one hell of a collection.

"Where'd you get this stuff?" Dean asked.

"Lots of hunters come through here. They pick up all kinds of stuff and sometimes they don't have cash to pay their tabs. I'm a bit of a collector. And you never know when a katana blade may come in handy."

Dean grinned. "Words to live by, man." He carefully looked over the blades before selecting the shortest and lightest one there. He'd be able to swing that one the easiest. He still doubted that he'd have the strength to take off a vampire's head in a single blow, but it would have to do. Then he continued to look through the collection. Seeing what he was looking for, Dean slid the blade through his belt so that it was resting alongside his leg. Then he carefully crouched down to pick up a soft leather case that folded out to reveal a set of a dozen small, beautifully embossed silver throwing knives. The craftsmanship was out of this world, and as he took one out and held it in his hand, Dean could tell that the balance was perfect. He put it back with the others and slid the case in the back of his jeans. He was set.

Dean turned to see his dad holding the machete, his mom the small sword, Bill had the aforementioned katana blade, and Cas was holding a really badass looking sword. Dean had to admit that the angel looked super cool holding a weapon like that.

"If we're all set?" At everyone's nod, Bill closed up his weapon's locker and moved it behind the bar. "Okay, Ellen and Sammy will be in the back where it's safe. Dean, I saw you take the throwing knives. You any good with them?"

"Yep."

"Great. I want you back here up on the bar top. Aim for eyes, knees, anything that'll slow them down. Once they get close to you, you can put that larger blade to use. I need one of you to stay with Dean." Dean was impressed that Bill, while remaining in authority in his own bar, was smart enough to leave the battle over custody of Dean to the Winchesters.

"That'll be me." Cas volunteered.

"Great." Bill nodded. "John, I hate to do this to you because you seem like a great guy, but I need to pair you with Gordon. I can't do it because I need to remain in here away from the door and I don't trust him around your wife. You get behind the door and leave him to watch it. Help him take out the vamps as they enter. When they start to come in too quickly, fall back. Got it?"

"Got it."

Dean was pleased that his dad was taking Bill's orders without question. But the other man had more experience and they were on his territory, so it made sense. The boy wasn't so sure that he liked the idea of his dad working with the douche-bag that had tried to kill Sammy, but what other choice was there?

"Mary, you and I are positioned at the halfway point between the front door and Dean; I'm left, you're right. When John and Gordon fall back, they'll be in-between us, so leave room. The goal is to keep the vampires from even reaching the bar. Dean and Cas are our last line of defense. Hey, Gord! You happen to know how many blood suckers are in this nest that you just poked?"

"Dozen and a half? Maybe more?"

"Yeah, he has no clue. Rushed in with little to no intel, as usual." Bill shook his head in disgust.

"Hey, shut your mouth! I know what I'm doing."

"Oh, so you planned on bringing hell down on Bill and Ellen?" Dean shot back. "'Cause if so, I say we're getting ready to fight the wrong monster."

"You got some attitude, boy."

"At least I got a brain to go with it, which is far more than I can say for you."

"Dean," His mom interrupted. "Now's not the time."

"Sure ain't, half-pint." Gordon agreed. "Cause we got us some fanged company."

Dean swallowed back his response and hopped up onto the bar. The small hunter pulled out the throwing knives and opened up the set, laying them on the wooden surface within reach. Dean selected one and held it between his fingers and thumb by the blade. He remained in a crouch, ready for the attack to begin. His baby brother and Ellen were safe for the moment and everyone else had taken their positions. It was show time.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** And the vampires approach... Who votes that we feed Gordon to them and all go home? And what's up with the change in the timeline events (and Cas and to some extent Dean sensing this)? Please leave a review and let me know what you think. thanks. _


	38. One Helluva Fight

**_Author's Note:_ **_Hey everyone! Wow... Gordon should be happy that his fate isn't in your hands or he'd be dead like, forty times over! I want to thank roy23, elfinblue, snseriesfan, FireAngel5683, LirielLee, numb3rs mystery, savannaharaza5, Araina Richardson, FireChildSlytherin5, guest, Hasmik Aharonyah, celestialstarynight, SkyHighFan, Angel of Nightfall, Nyx Ro, BigTimeGleekBTR, LilyBolt, VGiselleH, Genie, Dev's Inferno, The Best Kind Of Mad, androidtracker, Wunjo, Mysterious Prophetess, Kitsune1818, lobita, BranchSuper, jazzy2may, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Kelisem, angelofheaven001, AlElizabeth, if-llamas-could-fly, Eliza Ghost, GhilbiGirl, WolfTotem64, SiriusLover7, RoseDragon666, and EllyKayWasHere for their awesome reviews. Your support for this story is totally amazing. And now, on to the vamp fight!_

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: One Helluva Fight **

The vampires were coming, but Gordon knew that the six that he saw approaching were only the first wave. The hunter signaled the amount to the others. He knew that he had been incredibly lucky to have made it to the Roadhouse. Of course, he'd been hoping for more than just Bill, his useless pregnant wife, and a family with a baby and a loudmouthed brat, but beggars can't be choosers. Besides, with an expecting woman and two kids, the other adults would fight the invading monsters twice as hard. He just hoped that this 'John', 'Mary', and 'Cas' were decent hunters.

John took up position on the other side of the front door and glared at him. Just what kind of bug crawled up this guy's ass and died?

"Anyone gets hurt here today, I'm holding you personally responsible, Walker." The guy threatened him.

"Whatever." He tried to sound indifferent, but some nagging feeling was telling him that this man shouldn't be so easily dismissed.

Gordon left the door just a tiny sliver of a bit open and plastered his back to the wall, machete held to his chest. He schooled his breathing to something almost normal. He was ready. These disgusting creatures were going to die; every last one of them. And not just these vampires, but every last bloodsucker that he could track down. Sure there were other monsters that deserved death, and he'd put them down when he came across them, but vampires were his specialty. He'd hunt them down until his dying day.

Gordon was well aware that some of the other hunters considered him to be obsessive, or even crazy, but he ignored them. They were idiots and cowards. Take Bill Harvelle for instance. What the hell kind of hunter got married and ran a bar? You couldn't be a part-time hunter. And while you could partner up with others from time to time, you couldn't slow yourself down with attachments and you couldn't allow yourself to care about anyone but yourself. Hell, if anyone here died today, Gordon wouldn't shed a tear.

The first vampire slid through the open door and promptly got his head hacked off by the hunter's machete. Gordon grinned at John, but only got another scowl in response. Yeah, this guy was an asshole.

Two vamps pushed through next, much more violently and without the caution of the first. Gordon took out one and John swung his machete, cleaving the head off the other. His eyes widened and the dark skinned hunter got the feeling that this was the other man's first vampire kill. Perfect. A life or death situation and he was stuck with a pissy amateur. Still, Gordon was more than skilled enough for the both of them.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when more than half a dozen vampires rushed through the door. Gordon had no clue where they'd all come from. The second wave couldn't have moved that fast, could they? He must've missed something. Damn. If they lived through this, Bill was going to get on his annoying high horse and chew Gordon's ass out over this. But as a vampire pinned him to the wall and bared its sharp fangs, Gordon began to doubt that he had to worry about surviving this encounter. Just then, the vamp screamed and dropped down, clutching at its leg. The hunter looked down and saw a small knife handle protruding from the back of the creature's knee. That had to hurt. But this would hurt even more. Gordon raised his machete and decapitated the monster. Then he turned just in time to see the small child, Dean was his name, take hold of another throwing knife and carefully aim at a vampire that was a few feet from the boy's father. A second later the knife was embedded in the vamp's left eye. How the hell a kid had made a shot like that from all the way across a room full of chaos Gordon didn't know, but those skills were beyond useful. A tool like that was something that was priceless in the hunting business. Reluctantly, the hunter pulled his attention away from Dean and back to the fight. John had dropped back into position like they'd been instructed to do. Good soldier.

But Gordon didn't take orders from no one. He ran at one of the vamps and swung his machete. This was his fight and he was going to chop up as many of these monsters as he could.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Bill didn't even bother to yell out to Walker when the moron charged at a vampire at the front of the bar rather than falling back into position like he was supposed to do. If the guy wanted to let his rage at the creatures end his short and foolish life, well then, there was little that could be done but to make sure that no one else got taken out in the crossfire. Luckily, John was apparently good at following directions, because the man dropped back, taking up position between Mary and himself. Of course, the three of them hardly made an impenetrable wall and it was almost assured that some vamps would slip though and make it to the bar. But hopefully Cas and Dean could take care of them. And speaking of which…

Another small knife went sailing past his head and impaled an attacking vampire's throat. It stumbled back in shock, grabbing at the wound and didn't even realize that a katana blade was headed its way. Its head was rolling around on the ground in the blink of an eye. Bill shook his head in amazement. Damn but that kid had a good arm.

But he had to keep his attention focused on the wave of vampires pushing into the bar. By his calculation, there were between sixteen and nineteen of them. Twice as big as most nests. He'd heard about this. Some nests were joining up for protection against crazy hunters like Gordon Walker. They'd hunt separately but live in one large group and if provoked, they'd attack together. The idea was strength in numbers and right now it looked like it was a pretty good strategy. They were outnumbered three to one and the vampires had superior strength and speed. Luckily, the humans had the weapons and (except for Gordon) the brains.

Bill moved quickly and fluidly, decapitating vampire after vampire. He ducked under one as it tried to grab him and dropped to the floor, rolling into a crouch and then springing to his feet only to find that John had taken care of the creature for him. A nod of thanks in the other hunters direction, and the Bill went right back at it. He heard the sound of a bottle breaking behind him and knew that the vampires had made it past their line and to the bar. He hoped that Dean was okay and prayed that the boy and Cas could keep the monsters away from Ellen's hiding spot. He knew that his wife could take care of herself, but she was pregnant and if anything happened…

Suddenly, he was knocked to the floor and something sharp was tearing at his neck. Bill turned his head, desperately trying to avoid having his throat ripped out. He let out a scream as the side of his neck was torn open and blood flowed out. The vampire on top of him was drinking greedily and Bill couldn't push it off of himself. Then, a small blur hurled itself at the vamp and the monster was caught off guard. Bill was able to sit up as the weight disappeared from him. He was clutching at the bleeding wound in his neck as he looked over and saw Dean sitting on the vampire. He had his blade at the vampire's throat and was using all his weight to press down with the weapon. Bill watched with a sense of sick fascination as the five year old boy cleaved the monster's head clean off. Then Dean turned to him.

"You okay?"

"Uh… I will be."

The boy got to his feet and tried to wipe some blood from his face, only succeeding in further smearing the sticky red substance on his soft, pale skin. "Good. Keep pressure on that if you can. There's only a few more vamps left, so fall back and cover the door to the hideaway room and Cas will take up your position. You did awesome, man."

Not only was it strange to hear those words come from a child's mouth, but maybe the weirdest part was that it didn't seem like it should be strange. Dean was a kid but he was a hunter and he'd just saved Bill's life. Bill gratefully weaved his way over to guard the door to the room where his wife was still safe and sound. He seriously owed the Winchesters.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

When the vampires had made it to the bar, Castiel hadn't even let them get close enough to lay a finger on Dean before he had begun attacking them. He knew that his young friend was a more than capable hunter but he also knew how the vampires would see him: an easy target. They would swarm him. So, Castiel decided that he wouldn't give them the opportunity to harm the boy. Besides, Dean had already done more than his part by injuring countless vampires with the throwing knives while the angel had just stood by his side and waited for his turn to act. But still, as they got to the bar, Dean had a hard time fighting them off, even with the angel's help. When Dean was knocked back onto the bar top, Castiel swung his sword in an arch with all his strength and decapitated three vampires with a single blow.

Then Bill went down, and Dean called out "Watch my back!" as if he needed to ask, and then jumped off the bar to help. Castiel kept the other blood drinking creatures away from the small hunter as Dean beheaded the vampire that had almost killed Bill Harvelle. Afterwards, the angel did as Dean requested and took up Bill's empty spot when the injured hunter fell back. He was pleased that Dean stuck close to his side, as he was concerned that the boy would try to go off on his own. But it seemed that he recognized his own limits and was taking the necessary precautions.

Castiel spun around, using his momentum to take the head off of an oncoming vampire. Its fanged mouth was caught forever in a look of surprise as its head was hurled across the room and the body crumpled to the floor. The angel turned, ready for the next enemy, but was surprised to realize that there were none left standing. They had won with zero casualties. But not without injuries. Bill was the worst off, with a serious but not fatal neck wound. John was cradling his left forearm, which was dripping blood from a jagged cut. Mary had a small cut on her forehead. Gordon was limping and was bleeding from the back of his skull. And Dean's shirt was torn right over his ribs and was soaking through with with blood. Castiel suspected that he'd broken a beer bottle when the vampire had knocked him back onto the bar top and had gotten cut on the glass. Castiel himself was feeling the fight and knew that if he wasn't an angel he'd be all shades of black and blue.

"Success!" Gordon cheered. "Those blood suckers got what was coming to them!"

Suddenly, a silver throwing knife shot through the air and embedded itself in the man's shoulder. Gordon cried out in pain and shock.

"And now you got a little bit of what you got coming to you."

Everyone turned their heads to see Dean standing staring coldly at the hunter. Castiel had seen that look in his friend's eyes before and it never ended well.

"What the hell?" Gordon growled.

"You led them back here and could've gotten us all killed, you douche-bag."

"They needed to die!" Castiel didn't like the semi-crazed look in Gordon's eyes as he pulled the knife from his shoulder, dropped it to the floor and stalked towards Dean. John began to walk towards his son protectively. "All of them! You all may be content to sit here and do nothing as monsters roam free, but I'm going to hunt every last one down and kill them all!"

"Then here's some advice, Gordo." Dean sneered. "Not all vampires are monsters, and not all monsters are vampires. You want to see a real monster? Look in a mirror."

Gordon made a lunge at Dean and John ran forwards to stop him but Castiel's fist connected with the hunter's face before either of the others could complete their actions. The crack of bone could be heard throughout the bar, followed by the thud as Gordon's body hit the floor. Then there was a stunned silence.

"Get up and leave." Castiel ordered. "If you have even a small amount of intelligence, you will not speak a word or allow your path to cross any of ours again."

"I will kill you." Gordon managed to choke out through his broken jaw.

"No, you won't. However, not only is every single person in this room extremely capable of ending your existence, but they are also more than willing to do so, myself included."

Gordon pulled himself to his feet and held his machete up in an attack position. Castiel didn't even bother to raise his weapon. He merely narrowed his eyes and glared at the man.

"Try me." Castiel challenged.

Gordon looked at Castiel, then Dean. Slowly he turned to take in all the others and then shuffled backwards to the door.

"You've all made an enemy today." He spat out.

"We can live with that." John declared.

With that, Gordon spun around and left the bar.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Sorry to all of you that wanted Gordon dead but it wasn't his time. Hope the damage Dean and Cas caused was enough to satisfy for the moment. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	39. Out on a Deserted Road

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone, so glad you all enjoyed what happened to Gordon. And I want to thank Kelisem, numb3rs mystery, liebedero, Supervillegirl, FireChildSlytherin5, celestialstarynight, Firadraco, winchestergirl47, VGiselleH, elfinblue, SkyHighFan, LilyBolt, Nyx Ro, InsertNameHere, androidtracker, BigTimeGleekBTR, savannaharaiza5, Vampy, FireAngel5683, BranchSuper, lobita, TARDISfurofDoctorWhoClan, snseriesfan, ElzaGhost, roy23, Gustin azza, Mysterious Prophetess, Anewtah, HeartlessBytchhakaHelenBach1, angelofheaven001, Hasmik Aharonyan, Genesis Menendez, AlElizabeth, Bing Bing 9312, RoseDragon666, and guest for their awesom reviews. You guys are simply the best readers I could ever ask for._

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Out on a Deserted Road**

The Roadhouse was in full swing now, with almost a dozen hunters scattered around the room. Two were at the bar, downing drinks at an alarming rate, some were playing darts or pool, while others gathered at tables swapping stories. A simple nod from Ellen had been all it took to let the others know that it was alright to talk freely in front of the Winchesters.

Dean sat up on the unoccupied pool table with his knees drawn up to his chest and his chin resting on them. He was tired and his side was in agony. His dad had stitched up his wound (thank God for Marine first aid training) but it still hurt like a bitch. Ellen had offered him the cot in the back to rest on but he'd turned it down, knowing that Bill needed it more than he did.

While his dad and Ellen had tended to Bill's wound, Cas had used his powers to transport the vampires' bodies out back and then they'd been burned. The group had almost finished righting all the unbroken tables and chairs when the first customers had started making their way inside. Since Bill was resting, Mary had volunteered to help Ellen serve drinks and food to the hunters. Dean got a few curious looks, but for the most part was left alone. Mostly, he was waiting for an opening to leave and go check out the truck full of dead hunters that had led to Gordon Walker darkening their doorstep. His parents could stay here and keep the Harvelles and the other hunters busy while Cas took him to go investigate. Dean had already quietly run the plan by his dad and while the man wasn't thrilled with the idea, he'd grudgingly okayed it. Now Dean was just waiting for the right moment to slip away.

The boy pulled his flannel tighter around his body to hide the bloody, torn t-shirt underneath. The first hunters through the door had noticed and Dean had found himself uncomfortable with the attention. He didn't know any of them and didn't like the questions. The story being told was that Gordon had led a group of vampires back to the Roadhouse and the Harvelles and Winchesters had helped fight them off. Dean's role had been downplayed at his family's insistence but they couldn't say that he wasn't involved since they were certain that Gordon would be spreading the story as well.

"So, ya saw some action tah-night, eh kid?"

Dean looked up at a red haired man that was covered in scars and was missing his left eye. This guy sure didn't look like he was someone who came up on the lucky side of the hunt very often. He probably had been long dead before Dean had found his way to the Roadhouse the first time around.

"Yes, sir."

"Ya wanna sip of some good stuff, kid?" The man held out a bottle of cheap-ass whiskey. Dean wouldn't have been surprised to discover that the hunter had smuggled the bottle into the bar himself to avoid buying the better, yet more expensive stuff that Ellen kept on hand.

"Uh, you know I'm still a couple years away from turning twenty-one, right?" While a drink sounded like a good idea, he sure as hell wasn't going to drink out of the same bottle as this guy.

The guy let out a loud, drunken laugh. "Ha! You're funny, kid! I like ya. But really, ain't no one care 'bout your age. Get ya-self a sip. Go ahead."

"I think my dad cares. So, yeah, I'll pass. But thanks for the offer."

"Suit ya-self."

Scar walked away, but Dean wasn't given a moment alone as a beautiful woman took his spot almost immediately. She was dressed in tight jeans, a leather jacket, knee high boots, and her long dark hair hung freely over her shoulders. While it was a much better view than he'd had a moment before, Dean really didn't want the company. Still, he favored the lady with his most charming smile. As an adult, it would've been flirtatious, now he knew it was just considered to be adorable.

"I'm sorry about Ralph. He gives hunters a bad name. Of course, so do more than half the hunters out there, so maybe us hunters deserve the name we have, huh?"

Dean shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm just a kid, so what do I know?"

The woman smiled. "You look like you've seen too much to be 'just a kid'. Look, I've been there too. My parents took me on my first hunt when I was eight. A bit older than you, and I didn't have to do anything other than play lookout, but I get it."

"I'm not looking to talk 'bout my feelings, lady. I just want to sit here and enjoy the music and my root beer."

"You telling me to get lost?" She seemed amused.

"If you weren't so pretty, yeah, that's what I'd be saying."

"You're going to grow up to be a handful." She informed him.

"You have no idea."

"Just don't grow up too fast." She threw him one last smile and then walked off. Dean watched her go and then waved Cas over.

When the angel arrived, the young hunter hopped off the pool table. "Sammy asleep yet?"

"He just went out."

"Used your powers, didn't you?"

"He napped for so long earlier, and was so energized now that I could find no other way to…"

"It's fine, Cas." Dean cut him off. "But we should get going." They started walking towards the front door. His dad would cover for them with the excuse that they were going for a walk to 'get some air'.

Dean wondered how long they were going to be able to keep this charade up. Bill and Ellen weren't stupid and Bill had seen him in a fight. And Dean hadn't pulled any punches. He couldn't have afforded to since lives were on the line. No matter how much training a five year old had, there was no way a kid could've done what he had. Bill hadn't asked him about it yet, pain and blood loss had taken priority over a round of twenty questions, but Dean knew that the inquiry was coming. He just wasn't sure how to answer. He couldn't tell them the truth. It would put everyone in danger. Would they even believe the truth? Well, that was a bridge that would have to be crossed when they came to it… and if it collapsed under them, he hoped that they wouldn't all drown in the dangerous waters below.

Once he and Cas were outside and far enough away that no hunters would see their departure, the angel laid his hand on the boy's shoulder and the two time displaced friends disappeared.

The pair found themselves standing on a lonely stretch of road surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. Well, nothing aside from an old dark blue pickup truck. At least, Dean assumed that at one time it was supposed to have been dark blue. Now it was ninety-eight percent rust. The setting sun was reflecting off the windshield making it impossible to see inside, but Dean knew that two bodies were in the cab and the other two hunters would be in the bed of the truck. He looked up at Cas and gestured for them to go around back first. No sense opening the doors first. Dean always hated it when dead and possibly bloody bodies tumbled out at him. The ones in the bed would be easier to examine. He had to wonder though what could've killed all four hunters without a single one of them getting out to fight back.

As they rounded the back of the truck, Cas lifted Dean up and placed the boy on his shoulders. In that position, the small hunter was the first to get a good look at the bodies in the bed of the pickup. His eyes widened.

"Cas…"

"I see them." The angel commented as they drew closer.

"But that… it means…"

"Yes."

Dean stared at the bodies. They lay against the back window, clutching their shotguns to their chests, heads lolled to the side. And their eyes were burned out of their sockets.

"An angel killed them." Dean made it a statement, not a question.

"So it would appear."

"We need to take a closer look."

"I agree."

Cas put Dean down in the truck next to the tailgate, as far away from the bodies as possible. Dean wrinkled his nose.

"Angels weren't the only ones hanging around these hunters. This whole truck reeks of sulfur. I'd say at least one of these guys was possessed."

"They were probably on their way to the Roadhouse. If they've been keeping tabs on your family they would've known that you'd made contact with the Harvelles."

"So where do the angels come in?" Dean wanted to know.

"Perhaps protecting your family?"

"That would be a first." Dean muttered.

"Yes, I admit that it is unlikely."

"Seriously, Cas, what the hell is going on? We already know that the demons are interested in me but the angels haven't showed their douchy heads 'til now. So what do four dead hunters gotta do with it?"

"I'll check the ones up front."

Dean shrugged. "Knock yourself out, man."

The boy stood staring at the bodies, wondering if he should investigate them any further. He didn't really have to check for ID or anything. The corpses would eventually be discovered by the authorities and that stuff would be taken care of. But maybe he could find some clues as to why demons chose these guys to ride. But Dean knew he was just kidding himself. If he wanted to see the reason that these hunters were dead, all he needed to look at was a mirror. This was all connected to him somehow. But then again, what wasn't. If he wasn't busy saving the world, he was getting people killed.

Dean was pulled from his dark thoughts by footsteps. His head snapped up and he saw a figure approaching. Something in his stomach felt unsettled and he knew that trouble was approaching.

"Cas," He kept his voice low. "Stay out of sight."

The man approached and Dean stood at the edge of the truck's bed, right near the tailgate. He drew himself to his full, not very impressive height. The guy that walked towards him was about five foot-nine and had light blonde hair. His eyes were blue and cool, his lips pulled up in a smile that was almost convincing. He was dressed in a nice pair of pants and a gray polo shirt. As he reached the truck, the man inclined his head to look up at Dean.

"You are Dean Winchester."

"And you're an angel."

This seemed to surprise the angel. "Yes. You've heard of us?"

"I'm a hunter. I've heard of a lot of things. Demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, angels. You're all the same."

"You would group us in with the monsters?"

"You killed these hunters."

"They were possessed."

"They could've been freed." Dean shot back.

"You are strange. Not like other children."

"Which angel are you?" Dean asked. "And what do you want?"

"I want to protect you. These demons were on their way to the very bar where you were with your parents."

"You didn't answer my first question. And as for protecting me, where were you all the other times that the demons were after me and my family? Forget it, Wings, I'm not buying what you're selling."

"My name is Michael, and I am an archangel."

Dean took an involuntary step backwards as he felt his childish emotions take over. "You stay the hell away from me and my family!"

"I mean you no harm, Dean. I can protect you. I have discovered that a powerful and sadistic demon named Alastair has plans for you and I can offer you protection from him. All I would need from you in return is your promise to help me when you are older."

"Forget it." Dean sneered. "I'll take on a million Alastairs before I make a deal with you."

"You are making a mistake."

"He said no."

Dean turned to see Cas standing next to the truck. Michael stared at him, head cocked to the side, eyes intense. Dean hoped that whatever cloaking spell Cas had put on the both of them all those months ago held up to the archangel's scrutiny.

"You seem… familiar…" Michael commented.

"If you've been spying on the Winchesters, then you've seen quite a bit of me. I have been guarding this child more than you have, for a so-called angel."

Dean would deny it later if asked, but at that moment he let out a little giggle.

Michael's face darkened. "It would be a mistake to make an enemy of me."

"No one said anything about being enemies, dude." Dean spoke up. "That ball is in your corner. I just said that I sure as hell ain't making any deals with you. I was going for the whole 'live and let live' thing."

"You watched the confrontation at the bar, didn't you?" Cas asked.

"Yes."

"You would've prevented the hunters from reaching Gordon whether they were possessed or not. You wanted to observe Dean, just as the demons are."

"There is something very wrong with him."

"Standing right here." Dean waved his hand to catch their attention.

"He has not had it easy as of late. And you are not helping his situation. So please leave him alone. And that _is_ the last time I will ask nicely."

Michael seemed almost amused by the threat, but then took in the expressions on both of their faces and apparently decided that he wouldn't be getting anywhere with either of them at that moment.

"I'll be back."

"Whatever, Terminator." At their blank stares, Dean shrugged. "Hey, in a few months most people are going to find that comment hilarious."

With one last assessing glance in the boy's direction, Michael disappeared. Dean let out a groan and leapt out of the truck.

"Of all the angels to show up, why the hell did it have to be him?"

"Is there an angel you would've preferred?"

Dean thought it over. "Uh… maybe Balthazar?" Truthfully, he was slightly relieved that it hadn't been Uriel, Zachariah, or Raphael. They probably would've just kidnapped him and tortured him into saying yes. And Dean really wasn't in the mood to be tortured at the moment. Michael at least seemed to like negotiations more than strong arm tactics… at the moment anyway. Who knew what would happen when he continued to not get his way. "So, what's up with him riding Joe Shmoe?"

"Well, Nick wasn't Lucifer's true vessel and he used him for quite some time. Obviously Michael wanted to come down here himself for some reason and found someone willing to say yes."

"Poor deluded bastard." Dean shook his head. "But at least now we know the score. Both sides know that something is up with me but neither know the real story. I guess it's now a race to see which side makes a move next."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Bet you weren't expecting our surprise guest... I hope you all enjoyed. Remember that reviews help to keep little Dean safe...well, as safe as I ever let him be..._


	40. John Winchester's Son

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone, I hope you all enjoyed your weekend I want to thank Dazja, angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, K, Gustin azza, numb3rs mystery, Invader Kiwi, liebedero, Kelisem, Lady-Crymsyn, Nyx Ro, Mysterious Prophetess, FireChildSlytherin5, LilyBolt, lobita, xAnita88x, savannaharaiza5, Kisune1818, Supervillegirl, BigTimeGleekBTR, EllyKayWasHere, silversky13, roy23, Silvermoon of Forestclan, snseriesfan, AlElizabeth, Hasmik Aharonyan, Eliza Ghost, Firadraco, pollypocket911, Star-Simple-Dust, and RoseDragon666 for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! Oh and just a warning before you read on: Here there be angst..._

**Chapter Forty: John Winchester's Son**

The second bottle of beer was disappearing way too fast and John had sworn that he wasn't going to drink enough to get drunk, so he'd have to try to stretch the last little bit for as long as possible. He tipped the bottle to his lips and took a long pull of the brew. The empty bottle made a clinking sound as it was placed back on the bar top. Well, so much for making it last.

John signaled for another and a moment later a cold glass bottle was placed in front of him.

"Your wife says that this is the last one."

The hunter (damn, was that what he was now?) looked up to see Ellen standing over him. "That's only 'cause my wife is smarter when it comes to stuff like that."

She smiled at him. "In all the craziness, I never got a chance to thank you all for sticking around. From the way my husband tells it, we never would've stood a chance without you guys."

"You're welcome."

"Said your boy saved his life."

And there it was. The very thing that John was trying NOT to think about. That mental image of his five year old son sitting on a person's (a vampire's, not a person's) chest and cutting their head clean off. Only it hadn't been clean. It had been bloody and gory and the boy had just wiped it all over his face and pants and had gotten up and continued on his way. John himself, despite all his experiences in the marines, had felt slightly ill while decapitating the creatures that could almost pass for humans. But his son hadn't even flinched. John knew that Dean was in actuality over thirty years old but every time the father looked at him, he saw his little boy and that was just not something that a little boy should be capable of. Hell, it wasn't something that anyone should be capable of. What kind of person had he raised his son to be? What had he put that child through? In the aftermath of the fight, he'd stitched up his son's side as the boy had cried (and pretended that he wasn't) and they'd all avoided discussing anything of importance due to the fact that the Harvelles were within earshot. John had wanted to head straight home, but Mary had wanted to help Ellen out with the bar and Dean had wanted to investigate the dead hunters, so he'd found himself out-voted. And now here he was, sitting at the bar, having a conversation that he didn't want to be having.

"Well, Dean's good in a fight." John replied simply.

"You don't sound too pleased about that."

"Would you want your kid to be a hunter at age five?"

Ellen put her hand on her belly. "No."

"Well, fate's not been very kind to Dean and our circumstances left us no other choice."

Ellen placed a hand over John's and gave him a look filled with compassion. "I'll sneak you another drink in a while if you need it."

John let out a small, humorless laugh. "Thanks, but I won't leave you to deal with Mary's wrath."

Ellen walked off to take care of another customer and John turned his attention back to the bar top. Several other hunters had approached him to talk, and he'd ignored them all. He was doing this job because he needed to protect his family and because apparently there were people that needed the Winchesters to save them and he wasn't about to leave it all up to Dean, but that didn't mean that he needed to become buddies with the whole hunting community. He'd noticed that his son had dismissed the hunters that had tried to strike up conversation with him just as quickly. Must be a Winchester guy thing since Mary seemed to be at least trying to be polite. Of course, she _was_ helping to tend bar and it was an unspoken rule that conversation was part of the job.

John sighed. He really wanted to excuse himself and leave, but the only room to go into was currently occupied by Bill and either the man would be sleeping, and in that case John didn't want to disturb him, or he'd be awake, and in that case John didn't want to answer the questions about Dean's hunting abilities that the man would certainly ask.

The troubled man glanced back as he heard the door to the bar open and saw Castiel and Dean reenter the Roadhouse. The angel looked uptight, more so than usual, and Dean looked almost devastated. That had John up and across the room in a flash. He knelt down on the ground, not caring that just a few hours ago there'd been dead vampires in that exact spot or that him and his son were blocking the entrance to the bar. All he cared about was finding out what was wrong with Dean.

"Hey buddy, what's wrong?" He asked, slipping back into using the nickname he'd favored before November. He tried hard not to use it too much, unsure of how a thirty year old would feel about it, but it came to him naturally whenever his son was in distress.

The boy shrugged. "Nothing." But his voice sounded like he had swallowed a cup full of broken glass.

John laid a hand on his son's cheek and was surprised when the child leaned slightly into the touch. "Dean?"

"Why can't they all just leave me alone?" It was almost a whisper and if the boy's father wasn't so close, he would've missed it. But there was no way that he could miss the tears that were gathering in his son's eyes. And he knew Dean well enough to know that the boy was going to want to privacy if he was getting emotional.

John considered picking the boy up but dismissed it as possibly seeming humiliating for Dean and settled for taking the child's hand and leading him through the crowd and into the backroom. Bill was sitting up on the cot, looking groggy but otherwise okay. Sammy was fast asleep on a pile of blankets and if what John understood about the angel's powers were correct, nothing short of an apocalypse would wake the baby. He hoped it didn't come to that but with the way his life had been going lately, he never knew…

"Hey Bill, could Dean and I have the room for a moment?"

The other man looked at them for a moment and then took in the boy's glassy looking eyes and nodded. John smiled as the guy left. Bill Harvelle was going to make a pretty good father.

Once alone, John picked Dean up and sat on the cot, placing the child on his lap. "So, what happened?"

What followed wasn't the apocalypse, but it was pretty damned close. "Angels, Dad! It was angels. The demons are still after me and now the angels are too. 'Cept Michael's all pretending that it's for my own good, and that he's trying to help, and that this isn't all just some big old cosmic game of chess where I'm the freakin' game piece that everyone is fighting over!" With that, Dean pulled away and jumped off John's lap and started pacing the room. Anger was pouring off of the small child as he moved restlessly. "They don't even know what's going on yet, or who I really am, or how to get their plans back on track and yet they _still_ all want to get their hands on me! I can't do this again! I can't!"

"Dean, calm down. We can…"

"What? What can we do, Dad? They hold all the cards and they'll do anything for a chance to play them. Last time the demons killed Sammy to force me into making a deal to get me into Hell, where they spent decades torturing me. Decades! They broke me, Dad. And they'll do it all again to get what they want. And the angels, they weren't any better. They tricked us, and locked me up in their little hidden room, threatened me, Zachariah even gave me stomach cancer to force me to do what he wanted. And neither side is going to care that I'm in slightly smaller packaging this time around. Hell, they'll probably take advantage of it." Now the anger and yelling from moments ago had dissolved into fear and tears.

John went to his son and wrapped him in a hug. This was not the warrior that had decapitated vampires without a second thought just a few hours ago. This was his five year old boy. John was beginning to realize that it was as if he now had two Deans to take care of. One needed to be treated like an adult, needed to hunt, to joke around, to take care of Sammy. That Dean was a wiseass who tried hard to be strong for everyone and took control of bad situations. He was damaged, but refused to admit it, even to himself, for fear that it would make him seem weak and prevent him from being able to do his job. But then there was the other Dean. The five year old who couldn't help but be a child. His emotions were drowning him and he needed to be held and taken care of and told that everything would be alright, even when he knew that it was all a lie. He was beyond damaged and couldn't help but admit it, even while fearing that it would make him appear weak. John kind of preferred the child-like Dean but he loved them both.

"You have us this time around, Dean. We'll keep you safe."

The boy pulled back, his eyes huge with fear. "No! No, they'll just use you to get to me too and I'm not gonna let them do that to you, Dad. No one's gonna get hurt 'cause of me ever again."

"Dean, we're a family. We look out for one another. If we all watch each other's backs, like we do on the hunts, no one has to get hurt."

Dean seemed to think this over, biting his lip and slowly nodding. He actually looked younger than five, if that was even possible. John reached out and gently wiped the tears from his face. "Don't die for me, okay?" The boy pleaded.

John really didn't want to make that promise, but looking down into the child's desperate eyes, he decided that he'd say anything at that moment to bring the boy some peace. "No one has to die. We can all make it through this together."

Dean nodded, looking more certain this time. "Can we go home soon, Dad? I'm ready for today to be over with."

"So am I, son."

Dean nodded, suddenly switching gears and looking far older than five. "First vamp kill's not that easy, huh?"

"They look an awful lot like people."

"But they're not."

"They were." John shot back.

"Yeah." Dean agreed. "But there's no going back. Well, not usually."

"Usually?"

"Uh, yeah. There's a cure but you gotta take it before you drink even a drop of human blood and it tastes like crap and it's a bad trip and not highly recommended and… can we change the subject please?"

"Dean…" John was getting a really bad feeling that his son was speaking from personal experience. "Did you…"

"Can we change the subject _please_?" It was asked a bit more forcefully this time.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

"Awesome."

"So, what exactly are we going to tell Bill when he starts asking questions?"

"Why you asking me? I'm just a kid?" Dean gave him a mischievous grin.

"You had no problem handing out orders earlier."

"I knew what to do earlier." Dean admitted.

"So, no clue then?"

"No clue."

John nodded. "Then I suggest a tactical retreat. We'll go home, take some time to regroup, and come up with a good story before our paths cross next."

"Sounds good to me." Dean approved.

John picked his son up and wasn't sure what to expect. Was he going to encounter the Dean that would want to be put down to walk out of the room on his own? Or the Dean that would lean into him and allow himself to be carried?

Dean hesitated a moment and then laid his head on John's shoulder with a badly suppressed yawn. It was long past the boy's bedtime and thus time for the Winchesters to say their goodbyes.

He carried his son out of the backroom and saw the Harvelles standing together behind the bar, arms around each other as though they weren't in the middle of a crowded establishment. He smiled and waved his own wife over. She walked to him and gave him a hug.

"You guys okay?"

"We will be. Can you go grab Sammy? We need to be heading out."

"No problem." With a kiss to his cheek, she was gone.

John glanced over at Castiel, who hadn't moved from his position by the door. He'd wait until tomorrow, when Dean was busy with Sammy, and then get the details of what had happened that night from the angel. No sense upsetting his kid further by trying to get it from him. But he had to know what exactly was going on to know what to expect. And he would need to know what to expect if he was going to protect his son from whatever was to come. And make no mistake about it, John Winchester was going to find some way to protect his son from whatever was to come.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Sorry for the lack of action but I hope you all enjoyed. Next up, a three month jump, a new POV, and... can't give away that... Please take a moment and leave a review. Thanks._


	41. D

_**Authors Note:** Hey everyone! I'm back a bit early... I don't hear any complaints... So, over 40 chapters and over 100,000 words now. Who would've thought it. And as promised, this chapter takes place about 3months after the events of the last chapter. But before we get there, I want to thank angelofheaven001, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Araina Richardson, FireChildSlytherin5, Nyx Ro, Invader Kiwi, VGiselleH, EllyKayWasHere, Gustin azza, Anewtah, liebedero, numb3rs mystery, lobita, LilyBolt, Taeriel, Aislynnrose2010, Mysterious Prophetess, elfinblue, savannaharaiza5, FireAngel5683, Mizunou, kat, Saturne, roy23, BranchSuper, Dev's Inferno, AlElizabeth, celestialstarynight, Bing Bing 9312, ICan'tHearYouOverMyFeels, BigTimeGleekBTR, TheWinchestersBadGirl, apshep10, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. But it seems that no one guessed the mystery POV, so here it is..._

**Chapter Forty-One: "D…"**

It was bright. Sammy blinked and reached up to grab the light. Like always, his hand went right through. It didn't matter. The light felt nice in his hand. Warm was nice and as the days passed the warmth was getting warmer. It was nice.

But what wasn't nice was that his tummy was empty. It always was when he woke up. Waking up was bad because his tummy wasn't full but his diaper was. Should he cry to get Mama to come? Yeah, would be good.

Just as he was getting ready to cry, he heard someone walk into the room. Maybe he'd hold off on the crying. Unless it was Cas. Cas always got the food ready much faster if Sammy cried.

Dean! Oh, good! Sammy should've known that Dean wouldn't let him stay hungry. Sammy rarely had to cry for food anymore since Dean got up early and made sure he got fed as soon as Sammy was awake. Sammy loved all the people that took care of him but Dean was special. Dean was small, like him, and just… special. Sammy was safe with Dean. Sammy was loved with Dean. Dean made everything fun.

"Hey, Sammy! I wanted to be the first one to say this: Happy birthday!"

Sammy blinked at Dean. Dean's words made no sense to him, but Dean was happy, so Sammy was happy. The side of Sammy's crib was lowered and Dean picked Sammy up and took him out. Sammy was carried over to the bright blue changing table and laid down on top of the soft pillow top. Dean took Sammy's sleeping clothes off and removed the wet diaper talking to Sammy the whole time. Dean didn't talk to him like most people did, in short words and a high voice but he talked to Sammy like he talked to everyone else. It was nice. Everything about Dean was nice. Dean was so nice that Sammy tried hard not to move too much so that Dean could change his clothes faster.

"Wow Sammy, you're really growing, huh. Not gonna fit into these pajamas much longer. Good thing too. These ones are kinda ugly. I'll help Mom pick out your next pair. Don't worry, I remember all the stuff you like. It's supposed to be warm today so I picked out a short sleeve shirt for you. It's green, your favorite, and it's got a brown dinosaur on it and says 'giggle-saurus'. A little lame, but still cute. Oh, and a pair of brown pants. Cool looking pants though, not dorky looking. You'll dress like a geek enough when you're older."

As he talked, Dean got Sammy dressed. Sammy gurgled happily,

"D…" Sammy got the 'D' sound out but nothing more. He'd been trying for a long time to talk with no luck. He really wanted to say 'Dean' because Dean said 'Sammy' a lot. Also, Mama always wanted Sammy to say 'Mama' and Dada always wanted Sammy to say 'Dada' but Dean never made him say anything so Sammy liked that very much.

"What's up, Sammy? You need something? Or you just telling me to shut the hell up and get you your breakfast before you starve to death."

"D…"

"If your first word is 'dude' Mom and Dad are gonna kill me." Dean picked Sammy up and held him close. Sammy reached up and touched Dean's hair. He liked how it was soft, yet a little prickly. "Hey, quit messing up my hair, Sammy. It too me five whole seconds to style it this morning."

Sammy wasn't quite sure what Dean was talking about, but Dean was laughing as he was talking, so Sammy giggled too. Dean was funny. Dean took him down the stairs and Sammy went from being happy to being very happy. There were lots of colorful balloons everywhere! He squealed in delight.

Mama and Dada came over and yelled "Happy birthday, Sammy!" Sammy still didn't know what that meant, but it seemed to be a good thing because as he looked around, even Cas was smiling.

"I see your brother got you up and out of bed." Mama said.

His brother. That's what they called Dean sometimes, so Dean must be a brother but to Sammy he was always just Dean. Dean was too special to be called anything else.

"He's hungry, Mom. I'm gonna make him some birthday pancakes, since he's got four teeth now. We still got strawberries?"

"If you fill him up on strawberries, guess who's changing his diapers today?" Mama asked.

Sammy wondered what strawberries had to do with diapers.

"What do strawberries have to do with who changes Sam's diapers?" Cas asked.

Dean, Mama, and Dada all laughed.

Dean carried Sammy into the eating room and placed him in the chair. Dean gave him a chewing toy and a rattling toy and left the room. Sammy shook the green rattling toy and chewed on the blue chewing toy and listened to Dean singing in the other room. Dean sung a lot to Sammy. Sammy liked Dean's voice.

Mama came in and kissed Sammy's face and said that she loved him. Sammy giggled and kissed her back. Then she went in the room with Dean. Dada sat at the table near Sammy and picked up a large piece of paper and held it in front of his face. He did this most mornings and Sammy never knew why it was fun to him. It had no bright colors or pictures.

Sammy was just beginning to feel a bit fidgety and fussy when Dean came back in holding a plate of pancakes covered in strawberries and white creamy stuff. Sammy clapped his hands and laughed. Oh yes! This was the best breakfast ever!

"Dean! This is Sam's breakfast, not desert!"

"It's his birthday, Dad. He needs the whipped cream on top."

"And when he gets a stomach ache?"

"He'll be fine, won't you Sammy?" Dean smiled brightly at Sammy and used the fork to cut a piece of the pancake off.

Sammy opened his mouth and leaned forwards as much as the chair would let him. Dean put the forkful of yummy food in Sammy's mouth. It was great! Sammy chewed it quickly and swallowed it and then opened his mouth for more. Dean was ready with another piece.

After a while, Sammy felt like his tummy was full and he stopped opening his mouth.

"Done, Sammy?"

Sammy nodded. He tried again to say Dean's name but only got out the 'D' sound.

"Dad, can I show Sammy the big surprise now please?"

"You just filled him up on pancakes and now you want to show him the surprise? You want to get a second look at his breakfast, Dean?"

"I'll push him gently. C'mon Dad, please."

"Okay, let's go. But put his jacket on him."

"Let's get your jacket on, Sammy. We have a birthday surprise for you."

Sammy smiled happily as Dean picked him up out of the chair and carried him over to the couch. He was placed on the soft couch and he rolled off landing on his feet and stood there, holding on tight as Dean ran out of the room. When Dean ran back in, he laughed.

"You just can't wait, huh Sammy." Dean put one of Sammy's arms in the light brown jacket and then the other. Then Dean closed the jacket up and put a hat on his head. "You want me to pick you up or you wanna walk?" Sammy stomped his feet on the floor. "Walk it is." Dean stood behind him and took both of his hands. Sammy placed one foot forwards and then the next. He tried to go fast like he'd seen Dean do but he almost fell. But Dean never let him fall.

Soon they were at the door that led to the grass that Dada and Mama called the backyard. Everyone was waiting there and Dada opened the door and they went out. Dean picked him up and carried him out and Sammy was surprised to see something new in the grass. It was big and there was one just like it when they went to the park. And hanging from it was swings. There were swings in their backyard!

"Happy birthday, Sammy!" Dean called out again. "Dad and Mom got a swing set! It's got two swings, one is a baby swing but can be traded out for a regular one when you get bigger, a seesaw swing for us to use when your older, and even a slide. I know that the swings are your favorite thing in the playground so I thought we could come outside now everyday and I could push you in the swing. And when you get bigger I'll show you how to swing on your own."

Sammy started reaching for the swing. He really wanted to ride it. He loved the swings. He loved Dean pushing him on the swing. Dean walked over and stepped up on a step that was next to the swing and put Sammy into the swing. Sammy looked back at him and tried to say 'Dean' again.

"D…"

"I'm going to go start on the cake." Mama said.

"Castiel, can you help me put that item together?" Dada asked Cas.

"What item?"

"I can't say in front of you know who?"

"You mean Sam? We will be giving him the item today so…"

"Castiel!"

"I don't mind helping you, no."

Dean started laughing. Sammy giggled too. Sammy liked it when Dean was happy.

"Will you be okay out here with Sammy?"

"Yeah. I can get him in and out of the swing on my own. And Mom can hear me from the kitchen if I need to yell for help."

"Okay. See you soon."

Sammy watched Dada and Cas go back in and then Dean started pushing the swing. Sammy squealed with joy as the swing went higher and faster. It was fun. Dean started singing again. This was a fun day.

Just then, the swing stopped moving. Sammy waited for Dean to push him again but Dean didn't. Sammy squirmed a bit. Nothing happened. He let out a little fussy noise but Dean still didn't push him. Sammy turned to look but didn't see Dean behind him. Then he heard a sound to his side. Sammy turned and saw Dean.

Dean was on the swings too, but in a strange way. The seat of the swing was on the ground and the chain was wrapped around Dean's neck and he was swinging back and forth just a little. Dean's legs were kicking and he was grabbing at the chain. There were tears in Dean's eyes and he didn't look like he was having fun anymore. Sammy decided he wasn't having fun anymore either. Sammy started to cry.

"Shhhh. Don't cry, Sammy." A voice said.

Sammy looked over and saw a man standing in the grass. He was tall and thin and had dark hair. Sammy didn't like him. He was mean. Dean was everything good and this man was everything bad. Sammy wanted this man to leave. But the man started to come closer. The man wasn't looking at Sammy. The man was looking at Dean. Sammy looked at Dean. Dean's face was the wrong color and he was making strange noises. Sammy was scared. This wasn't a good day anymore.

"Now Dean, if you were going to be spending time in the backyard, you should've protected it a bit better. Some salt mixed into the paint on your fence isn't nearly strong enough for something like me." The man turned to look at Sammy for a moment and Sammy saw that his eyes were all white. Then the man turned back to Dean. "If I remember correctly, the last time I saw you I promised that you and I would have another talk. And I always keep my promises." Dean shook his head and more tears streamed down his face and Sammy cried even harder. The bad man laughed. "Oh, this is going to be fun, I can just tell."

Fun? No. Sammy was not having fun. Dean was crying and hurt and Sammy was scared and the bad man was laughing and even his laugh was bad. Then the bad man reached his hand out and the swing chain came off the swing and floated through the air with Dean hanging on it. The bad man was taking Dean away from him! Dean was still making noises and crying but he was moving less and Sammy was getting more scared and crying harder. Dean dropped down a bit until he was being dragged on the ground and Sammy reached out for him, still crying. He loved Dean but the bad man didn't. Sammy watched as Dean pulled at the chain around his neck.

"Sammy…"

"Oh, how touching. Using your last words to say goodbye to your brother. But if you just tell me what I want to know, then perhaps your life doesn't have to end today."

Dean shook his head.

"Well then, I suppose all bets are off."

Sammy watched as the chain pulled up into the air and Dean was pulled up too. Dean kicked, and cried, and made funny noises but the bad man just laughed. And all the while, Sammy sat in the baby swing, sobbing, reaching out to Dean, and trying to call out his name.

"D…"

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Let me just say: Please don't kill me for what I did to little Dean! Please! I have a family that would miss me very much. And if begging doesn't work, how about bargining? If you spare my life, I will try to update again on friday. That's three times this week! Please don't kill me! But please DO leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	42. Chains and a Knife

_**Author's Note:** Yay! No one killed me for the last chapter! Not for lack of trying though since I have fifty-six hellhounds, thirty-two demons, twenty-nine zombies, thirteen vengeful spirits, and four ghouls surrounding my home ready to attack. But, as promised, here is the next chapter. First though, I want to thank Silvermoon of Forestclan, apshep10, Kelisem, VGiselleH, FireChildSlytherin5, numb3rs mystery, Aislynnrose2010, EllyKayWasHere, elfinblue, LilyBolt, Nyx Ro, guest, if-llamas-could-fly, liebedero, tealpaperclip27, Genesis Mendez, guest, Iwontkillyou, ICan'tHearYouOverMyFeels, TheHalf-Fallen Angel, Anewtah, Invader Kiwi, savannaharaiza5, lobita, The Best Kind Of Mad, roy23, Gustin azza, jazzy2may, xxSabakuNoPicaxx, BranchSuper, RoseDragon666, FireAngel5683, AlElizabeth, Zerimar, O'erTheHillsAndFarAway, Wunjo, Irishred79, Hasmik Aharonyan, Vampy, Mysterious Prophetess, guest, WestBoundSign, Star-Simple-Dust, Eliza Ghost, Leoooo, and GhibliGirl91 for their awesome reviews. If I knew I'd get this many reviews, I'd have let Alastair strangle Dean with a chain a long time ago! Just kidding... Please don't kill me. _

**Chapter Forty-Two: Chains and a Knife **

The day had been going so well. It was Sammy's first birthday and Dean had just been enjoying making the little guy smile. But one second he'd been pushing his brother on the swing and the next he was hanging with a chain wrapped around his neck, not being able to breathe. He'd struggled to get free, but it was no use.

And then Alastair had shown up. Dean had known that it was Alastair before the bastard had flashed his pure white eyes. No other demon had the power (or the balls) to march into the Winchesters' backyard and stage an attack. Besides, Dean just had to be in his presence to know; he could feel the evil oozing out of the son of a bitch.

Alastair started taunting him but Dean could barely focus on the words. He was beyond terrified that Sammy was going to get hurt. One of the worst demons ever was standing right there and there was no way that the one year old could protect himself. Sammy was crying now and it was breaking Dean's heart even as he felt himself almost blacking out.

Then the chain was moving away from the swing set and he was being pulled towards Alastair. His body hit the ground and the boy was being dragged across the grass and dirt. Dean pulled at the chain around his neck. Since his weight was no longer supported by it, he was able to get a breath in. He heard his brother crying and gasped out the baby's name.

"Oh, how touching. Using your last words to say goodbye to your brother. But if you just tell me what I want to know, then perhaps your life doesn't have to end today."

Dean shook his head. He couldn't let Alastair in on the truth. More than just his life was at stake.

"Well then, I suppose all bets are off."

The chain once again jerked him up off the ground and Dean gagged and choked as tears streamed down his face. He couldn't breathe and his throat hurt so bad. And he was scared beyond belief. Hell, at this point it took all the control he had to not wet himself in front of this monster.

"Put him down."

His mom. Dean couldn't turn his head to see her, but that was definitely her voice.

"Oh, I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon. And if you even think about trying to go and get that nasty little colt or that knife, I'm afraid I'll have to snap this poor child's neck just as easily as I broke his arm at our last meeting."

The dark spots that were dancing in front of his vision began to take up most of Dean's world and the boy felt his body growing heavy. He prayed that the sadistic demon didn't hurt his family once he was gone.

And then his feet were touching the ground again. The chain gave a little slack and Dean gulped in some air, before collapsing to his knees. But his windpipe had been bruised and swollen and he just couldn't get enough oxygen in. The boy whimpered a bit as he gasped and wheezed. Then a hand was in his hair, grabbing it painfully.

"Oh, you didn't think it was sleepy time yet, did you, Dean? I won't let you go that easy. But here's the thing. I don't think you're the only one that knows your little secret. What about you, Mommy? You know what this little guy's keeping from me?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about. I just want you to leave my son alone."

She sounded so desperate and scared that Dean would've believed her if he hadn't known better. He just hoped that Alastair bought it.

"So, you haven't noticed anything different about your son?"

"You mean besides the fact that you demons won't leave him alone? That he's lost his innocence at age five because of Azazel and you?"

Dean wished that he could pray to Cas for the angel to come and take care of Alastair, but he was aware that there was a Castiel up in Heaven as well as the one in the Winchester home and it would be a disaster if the wrong one heard him as well. The boy kept his head down as he worked to get air in through his damaged throat and tried to recover. He could still hear his baby brother crying and was glad that so far the demon hadn't brought Sammy into this confrontation. But he'd have to end this quickly if he wanted to keep it that way. Of course, Dean only had his small iron pocket knife with him…

"Oh, I've seen demons terrorize children before. I personally try to get the opportunity whenever I can. And they don't turn out like your son. There's something very special about him."

"Jealous?" His mom asked.

"Intrigued. You see, Hell has spent millennia and countless resources on a plan that a small child has now derailed. As you can imagine, that has not happened before." Dean shuddered as Alastair released his hair only to stroke his head. The small hunter knew that he wouldn't be able to get away since the chain was still coiled around his neck. He slipped his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around his knife. He hoped his dad and Cas would arrive soon. After all, how long did it take a mechanic and an angel to put together a Fisher-Price Cozy Coupe Car?

"We don't know anything about any plans of yours. And I'm the one that killed Azazel that night. You want to hurt someone for disrupting your plans, hurt me."

_No!_ Dean thought. Not her. He didn't want Alastair to hurt anyone in his family and he certainly didn't want to go through losing his mother all over again.

"And just where did you get the weapon to kill him? Because from what I hear, the following morning, this young child supplied you with the weapons to fight Azazel's children and fearlessly stood up to the demons. And right now, I am close enough to feel his soul. There is something cloaking it from me, which is curious enough by itself, but I can sense something off with him. So what is it?"

"I'll… tell… you… if…" Dean gasped out. His voice was barely audible and it hurt so badly to talk.

Alastair knelt down low, an evil smirk on his borrowed features. "If what, boy?"

"If… Hell… freezes…" The boy finished as he pulled out the knife and jammed it into the bastard's eye.

The demon howled in pain and Dean gestured wildly for his mom to grab Sammy. They needed to get inside. His mom understood and ran to the swing set, snatching the baby up in one swift motion, then running to the door. Dean tried to slip his head out of the chain, knowing that he wasn't going to get far while still tethered to the demon, but it wasn't loose enough. And then it was suddenly so much tighter and Dean was gasping for air again.

"You think that that's going to stop me, Dean?" Alastair sneered.

Dean's feet were once again lifted from the ground, and then he was flying through the air and his small body hit the house hard. He slumped to the ground, chain still tight around his throat. Then the metal links tighten further and were dragging him over grass and dirt to the demon possessed man's feet. Dean felt blood dripping down his neck from where the chain had bitten into the tender skin. He knew that he was crying and was beyond caring at the moment. Sammy was inside and safe. His parents and Cas were here and wouldn't let him die. He just needed to hold on. He could do that. At least he hoped that he could.

"I think you forgot something." Dean looked up to see Alastair holding his pocket knife. "Nice little piece of work here. Iron blade, coated in holy water and salt. Of course, all you're going to care about is that it's sharp." With that, Alastair plunged the knife deep into Dean's upper left arm. The boy tried to scream, but barely any sound came out through his damaged throat. Then the demon pulled down on the weapon, leaving a bleeding gash in the boy's flesh.

Dean was in agony and felt himself almost slipping into flashbacks of his time in Hell when strong arms wrapped around him and suddenly he found himself back inside the house being cradled in Cas' lap.

"Cas?"

"Don't try to talk, Dean. Your mother told us you needed to be rescued."

Suddenly the whole house started to shake.

Dean's eyes widened in fear. "Not… safe. He'll… break devil's… traps. Get the… colt. My room."

Cas gently handed Dean to his father who held the boy close. Dean saw his mom holding Sammy who was still sobbing pitifully and upon seeing his brother started reaching for the other boy. Dean forced a weak smile and reached up to pat the baby on the head when his mom knelt down next to them. Dean's whole body started to shake and he coughed painfully. Then he felt pressure against his left arm and looked over to see that his dad was holding a towel to his wound. Yeah, that was probably a good idea.

Cas suddenly reappeared next to them, colt in hand. Dean realized that they were in the basement, with Sammy's brand new plastic red car fully assembled next to him, a bright silver bow on the top of it. The light bulb above them flickered and everything shook again. Dean felt his heartbeat pick up and gave up all semblance of courage as he buried his head in his dad's chest. He was in agony, felt like he was seconds away from passing out, and was terrified beyond belief. And Alastair was coming.

"As much as I was to end this now, I don't think this is the right time to fight." Dean heard his mom say.

"What choice do we have?" His dad shot back. "I don't think he'll leave if we ask him nicely. Besides, we have the demon killing knife and the colt."

"The knife doesn't work on him." Cas informed them. "And with the colt, you will get one shot and one only. And I cannot guarantee that it will be enough either."

"Get us somewhere safe, Cas." Dean's mom ordered.

Dean felt that strange displacement sensation and then heard Bobby's exclamation of "What the hell! You Winchesters tryin' ta give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry, Bobby. We needed a safe place to go. Alastair is after Dean." His mom sounded so scared and sad.

Dean lifted his head up to look around. Bobby's living room. He was safe. Bobby's eyes widened as he saw the boy and he gasped.

"After 'im? I'd say he got his hands on 'im already!"

"The boys were playing out back…" Dean's dad started.

"Alone?" Boy was Bobby pissed.

"We didn't think…"

"No ya didn't."

Dean felt himself start to shake again and Sammy was crying even louder.

"Can we _not_ do this now?" His dad asked pointedly.

Bobby nodded. "I'll break out the first aid kit."

"Wait on that." His dad handed Dean to Cas. "Heal him."

"I can't."

"Yes you can. I saw you do it that first night. You brought him back to life for God's sake! Now, heal him!"

Cas shook his head, holding Dean gently against his chest and rubbing the boy's back comfortingly. "I was lucky that night that my use of those powers was not traced back to me. If I was to do it now, especially with us all under scrutiny, they would surely figure out what I am. Who I am."

"You use your powers all the time." Dean's dad accused.

"Certain ones, yes. But those cannot give me away. Many beings can teleport, or place others in a sleeplike state but angels are the only ones known to heal or burn demons. That is why I need to be selective in the powers that I use. Right now, for all either side knows, I am only a human who perhaps can use some magic, but if Heaven figures out who I am, they will either destroy me or at the very least, cut me off from using any powers at all."

Dean watched his dad nod reluctantly. "Better get that first aid kit after all, Bobby."

Dean was trying to feel ashamed for acting like the little child that he now looked like, but he just couldn't muster up the strength for it. Besides, he'd once again faced down one of Hell's most vicious demons, stabbed the son of a bitch in the eye, helped his mom get Sammy to safety, and hadn't even peed himself, so if he wanted to cry like a baby in the arms of an angel during the aftermath, then that's what he'd damned well do.

"Should we take him to the hospital?" His mom asked. "His neck looks bad and I don't like how deep that cut seems to be."

"No hospital is gonna be protected from a demon attack." Bobby reminded her.

"Besides," His dad spoke up. "We just had him there in November and this will be very hard to explain. The police will get involved and so will child services."

Dean shook his head, fearful of being taken away from his family. He'd dealt with lack of professional medical care his entire life and he'd much rather take that now than risk losing what he'd only recently gotten back.

Cas carried him over to the couch and went to lay him down but Dean panicked and grabbed onto the angel's trench coat for dear life. He absolutely refused to let go. He knew he was reacting irrationally but once again, he couldn't find it within himself to care. He felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over him when Cas sat on the couch and settled the boy into his lap. The angel was lightly restraining him and Den realized that his tiny, little body was still trembling uncontrollably. He wanted to say something to his friend but couldn't, partly because he didn't know what to say, partly because the inside of his throat was swelling even further and he didn't think he could get a sound out even if he tried. Hell, at this point he could barely breathe.

"Please tell me you have something in that kit for pain." He heard his mom comment.

"After yer first visit, when I got ta realizing you were gonna be bringing a kid on all of yer hunts, I got prepared. This here's a children's local anesthetic. Use this cotton swab ta smear it on his arm around that gash and in a few minutes he won't feel a thing as ya stitch him up. I ain't got nothin' for his neck though 'cept maybe a cream fer the bruises. What the hell happened there?"

"Alastair tried to strangle him with a chain." Dean trembled even harder at them memory of hanging by his neck in front of that monster.

"Please do not discuss this in front of Dean." Cas instructed.

"Sorry." Everybody responded at once.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to block out the entire experience from his mind as he felt something cool being spread on his arm. Moments later, the cool seemed to turn to ice and then into a blessed numbness. Now if only something could take the pain from his throat. As if reading his mind, Bobby's gruff voice rang out close to Dean's ear.

"Here boy, drink this." Dean opened his eyes to see his old friend holding a steaming cup of something.

Trusting the older hunter, the boy sat up with Cas' help and took a sip. It was a struggle to swallow but the hot liquid was very soothing.

"What is it?"

"An old remedy." Bobby answered Dean's mom. "It'll help relieve the pain and take down the internal swelling."

Dean looked down and saw that, to his surprise, his father had already started to sew up his wound. The boy hadn't felt a thing. He watched as his dad poured more disinfectant on the gash and it bubbled and fizzed. The man wiped it gently and stitched some more. Dean stared with a sense of sick fascination until Cas gently turned the boy's head away. He looked up at the angel.

"We'll set up better protection, Dean. Alastair won't get another chance like that again."

Dean felt tears begin to gather in his eyes once again. He knew that Cas was trying to make him feel better but he also knew that Alastair would never stop trying. Would he ever be safe?

"Cas…"

"If he so much as sets foot on the property again, it will be the last thing he ever does."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Dean rested his head on Cas and looked over at his parents. His dad was busy fixing up his arm, and his mom was still calming Sammy, tears silently running down her face. Since they were all trying their best to keep it together, he figured that he should too. So Dean nodded his head.

"Okay, Cas."

When his arm was completely stitched and all wrapped up, Dean took some children's Tylenol and finally climbed out of Cas' lap. He was beginning to feel a bit calmer and, since the pain wasn't quite as bad anymore, Dean felt more like himself. So when Sammy started reaching for him, the boy nodded to his mom and reached right back. When the baby was placed in his arms, the older brother held him tightly, glad that he hadn't been injured. The little guy cooed happily, glad to have his big bro back.

"Love you, Sammy." Dean whispered, even though his throat was in indescribable amounts of pain.

"Dee!"

"What?"

"Dee!"

"Dean?"

Sammy nodded. His baby brother had just said his first word! Dean laughed despite his severely crappy day. "Good job!" He managed to say. He looked up at his family to see if they'd heard. By the astonished looks on their faces, he assumed that they had.

"Oh, Sammy! You said your first word! That's great!" His mom praised.

Dean smiled at Sammy and hugged the baby. He felt that what little strength he had left was leaving him, though. He was exhausted and just wanted to get some rest. Judging by Sammy's big yawn, he wasn't the only tired Winchester brother either.

"Nap?" He whispered.

Sammy nodded and held Dean tight. "Dee?"

Dean nodded.

Minutes later, both boys were settled on the couch and ready to sleep, Cas' hand on Dean's head to keep the nightmares away. And Dean had a feeling that it was definitely going to be needed. He just hoped that his parents and Bobby were going to be able to keep the real life nightmares away from them while he was asleep.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **And since I spared Dean's life, I assume that mine will be spared as well... I hope you all enjoyed. I know that you probably wish that Alastair had been killed but getting Dean to safty had to take priority. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	43. Sad and Broken

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone. Glad that you all decided that I can live... except a few of you who are still on the fence or are busy giving me passive aggressive stares. But either way, I want to thank you all because this story has actually passed 1,000 reviews! Can you believe it? I sure can't! And it's because you guys are just so awesome. So I want to thank FireChildSlytherin5, roy23, VGiselleH, Mysterious Prophetess, Anewtah, liebedero, Dazja, numb3rs mystery, pollpocket911, Kelisem, Nyx Ro, LilyBolt, Invader Kiwi, if-llamas-could-fly, savannaharaiza5, Eliza Ghost, GhibliGirl91, EllyKayWasHere, BranchSuper, Bella, lobita, elfinblue, Breezers2000, guest, Kitsune1818, RaiHopeless, angelofheaven001, AlElizabeth, celestialstarynight, The Best Kind Of Mad, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Aislynnrose2010, Bing Bing 9312, RoseDragon666, Vampy, Elise, and Shadowrogue9979 for their wonderful reviews. I also just noticed that it's been just over a year since I started posting my very first Supernatural story here so wow... time flies, huh? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter. _

**Chapter Forty-Three: Sad and Broken**

Mary stood watching her sons sleeping on Bobby Singer's couch and tried to stop the tears from running down her face. But every time she saw the ugly bruises and cuts marring Dean's pale neck, she felt like running to the bathroom to be sick because it just brought those terrible images back to her mind so vividly that she could swear that she was standing right in her backyard.

When she'd first gone outside, it had been because she'd heard Sammy crying and had feared that something had happened to the baby. Maybe he'd fallen from the swing or something. Normally Dean would've calmed his little brother so when the crying got worse instead of going away, Mary had stepped out to check on her boys to see what was wrong. At first, her brain had not been able to process what she saw. Her eldest son was dangling in the air, hanging from a thin swing chain wrapped around his neck. The chain was suspended from thin air. Dean's face was turning a dark, purplish color and he was gasping for air that just was not filling his lungs. And that was an image that Mary feared was going to stay with her for the rest of her life. She was very glad that Sammy was far too young to fully comprehend today's events or to remember them as he got older. She kind of envied him.

"What the hell happened?"

Mary turned to see John standing besides her.

"I don't know. I heard Sammy crying outside. When he didn't stop right away, I went to check on the boys and I… Dean… he was hanging from the swing chain. Alastair was there too." She spit the name out. "I thought he was going to strangle Dean to death right then but he put him down and then was asking both of us what Dean's secret was. He really wants to know, John. I pretended I didn't know but I don't think he bought it. Alastair let it slip that Hell's plans have been 'derailed' and they blame Dean. Then Dean, he stabbed Alastair in the eye and pointed to Sammy. I took Sammy inside and came downstairs to get Castiel. I knew that he was the only one that could get Dean out of there before the demon could kill him." Mary was crying before she had finished and John wrapped his arms around her. It was strange. Just half a year ago, she felt like their marriage was falling apart and was worried that he was going to leave one day and never return. And now… now the rest of their lives were falling apart but she couldn't ask for a more supportive husband and father than John Winchester.

"You did the right thing. Dean is safe now, Sammy's okay, our family is together, and we got a chance to scare the crap out of Bobby again."

"Funny, Winchester." Bobby grumbled, as Mary actually laughed for the first time since seeing her son being strangled. "How 'bout I pop up in the middle of yer house and see how you like it?"

"What are we going to do, John? Alastair got into our backyard. He attacked our son. Dean isn't safe."

"I'll tell ya what yer gonna do." Bobby interrupted. "Yer gonna stay here fer a couple days while ya take yer angel back and forth and protect yer house and property a bit more."

"How?" John wanted to know.

"Well, yer gonna start off with these." Bobby held up something that looked an awful lot like a really large hubcap.

"A big hubcap?" Her husband questioned skeptically.

"Yeah, ya idjit, I'm gonna give ya a hubcap." The older hunter shook his head and turned the heavy looking circle around to reveal intricate carvings. "It's an iron plate carved with the Key of Solomon. We're gonna bury these devil's traps all over yer yard. Make yer property a mine field fer demons. Then we're gonna buy ya some nice lookin' water fountains and bird baths and yer gonna bless the water in all of 'em so ya got yerself holy water everywhere. Oh, and Dean told me all about the panic room that I build when I'm older, and we're gonna put one in yer house. That boy of yers is gonna be safe."

Mary nodded, feeling slightly better now that they had a plan. And a good one at that. Once Dean was awake, and Castiel was able to transport them back to the house, they'd get to work. A small moan drew her attention over to the couch. Dean was shifting a bit, his face scrunched up in distress. A nightmare.

Castiel had told her once that even with him holding the Hell memories back, Dean was the real one in control and if he thought too much on bad things he could bring those elements into the dreams. She prayed that the angel helped him fight off whatever was troubling him. But Mary was a mother and wasn't about to leave her son in someone else's hands entirely, even if she knew there was little that she could do.

She knelt down by the old couch and carded her hand through her boy's short hair and made soft, shushing noises. Then, in a very quiet voice, Mary began to sing 'Hey, Jude' to Dean. He'd always liked that song. He whimpered a bit and her heart broke when she realized that nothing was working to calm him down. He'd simply been through too much.

Dean's eyes shot open and he sat up with a gasp and a cough. Mary rubbed his back soothingly, noticing that even as he came out of whatever Hell he'd been trapped in, he was careful to not knock Sammy off of his lap. The boy looked around the room with a desperate, haunted look in eyes that were filled with hopelessness and tears. Mary placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and wished that she could erase all the pain from his life.

"Hey sweetie, you okay?"

"Yeah…" His voice was barely audible and was rough from the abuse it had suffered earlier that day. But Mary knew better than to tell him not to talk. If he wanted to be silent he would, if not, nothing would get him to remain quiet. "It was… nothing."

"Dean's dreams were interrupted by his memories of Alastair." Castiel informed her.

"Cas!" Dean snapped.

"I figured that out on my own." Mary replied. Then she turned to the angel. "You couldn't do anything for him?"

"Was my… own fault." Dean muttered.

"It was to be expected after today's events." Castiel responded. "You could not be expected to…"

"Everything…" Dean's voice was much louder than he should've been able to project it at that moment, but his raw emotion had taken over and was powering him. "Everything today… it was all… all my fault."

"What do you mean, sweetie? It wasn't…"

"I forgot. I forgot… the things I've seen… the things… I've lived through. The thing's _I've done_. And I allowed… myself to actually… be happy. But I can't have that. I can _never…_ have that. Because this… this is what… happens when I do." Dean lapsed into a choking fit that seemed to last forever.

Mary rubbed circles on his back and looked up at her husband feeling more helpless than ever. What was she supposed to do with that confession? Should she be pleased that her broken son had actually felt happy or devastated that he now felt that he wasn't allowed to ever have that happiness in his life again?

"No, Dean. It's not your fault. And you _do_ deserve to be happy. You do."

He shook his head in denial, still coughing. Tears were streaming down his face and Mary was positive that not all of them were from the choking. Sammy stirred from his nap and looked up at his big brother with concern. John picked up the baby and put on a fake, cheerful smile.

"Hey, Sammy. Dean's got a bit of a cough right now, so why doesn't Daddy hold you until he's done?"

But Sammy wasn't having any of it. He shook his head at his dad and pointed one chubby finger at Dean. "Dee!"

"How about 'Dada'?"

"Dee!"

"I see how this goes." John shook his head.

Dean had finally stopped coughing and even though he looked winded and weak, he reached out for his brother. John placed Sammy back down on his brother. Dean held Sammy tight to his chest as though he'd never let go, until the younger boy started to squirm. Dean placed him down on the ground and Sammy held onto the couch and shuffled his way over towards Bobby. In the past six months, both Bobby and Castiel had become like family to Sammy and he didn't hesitate to go to either of them.

As soon as the baby was off of him, Dean jumped off of the couch and made a rather fast retreat from the room. Mary went to follow, but Castiel stepped in front of her to block her way. She was about to push past (angel or not, no one got in between a mother and her child) when he spoke up.

"Let him be for a moment. He just revealed thoughts that he did not wish to reveal and now he wants solitude to think things over."

"It may be what he wants, but it's not what he needs." Mary argued.

"I agree."

"Then why…"

"Because Dean will not agree yet. Give him a few minutes alone and he will realize that he does not actually crave loneliness."

Mary chuckled. "You know, for an angel, you're awfully crafty."

"I have actually never done any sort of crafts."

She looked at him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he was joking and then just shrugged. Either way, he had had a good point about her son. If she went to Dean now, he'd just try to push her away, or he'd put on the whole 'I'm an adult, I don't need help' act. But if she waited until he knew that he needed help, then maybe he'd accept it when she offered it. For the millionth time since November, she thanked Heaven that Castiel had followed Dean back to this time and had stayed with him.

Mary watched as Bobby and John discussed the protection plans with Castiel, and after a moment, the angel nodded and all three started gathering up the supplies that would be needed while Sammy amused himself by following them around. When she felt that she'd waited long enough, Mary went off to find her son.

Bobby's house wasn't that big, she hadn't heard his footsteps on the stairs, and she knew that Dean was smart enough not to run outside after the events of the morning, so it took her no time at all to find the small boy huddled up behind the large wooden desk in the study. It was obvious that he had been crying and Mary wasn't sure how much more her heart was going to be able to take in one day.

"Hey, Dean. Is there room back there for one more?"

He shrugged but actually shifted to try and make some room. Mary took it as the invitation it was meant to be. She sat down besides him but made no move to put her arm around the boy. She wanted him to make the first move so as not to push too much and lose this moment.

"Sammy okay?" Dean's voice sounded horrific.

"Yeah, he's 'helping' the others pack some stuff up." At Dean's questioning look, Mary continued that explanation. "Bobby had some ideas on how to better protect our house. We'll be staying here while that work is done." Dean nodded. She was relieved but also concerned that he didn't ask to help with the protection work. "How are you doing?"

The boy shrugged and a few tears escaped his eyes. "Hurts"

"Your throat?"

A nod.

"Your arm too?"

Another nod. Dean chewed on his bottom lip.

"Anything else?"

A third nod; this one a bit hesitant.

"Oh sweetie, please tell me what's wrong. Is it what you said earlier? About blaming yourself because you allowed yourself to be happy?"

Dean nodded again.

"Oh Dean, if anyone deserves happiness, it's you. You're an amazing person. You're right you've been through so much that you can never forget, not even for a moment. And most people would take that and become cold and cruel and they'd be pure evil. But you, you are sweet and kind and full of love and you know what Dean? You are my hero."

Dean shook his head and looked away. "You don't… you don't know everything." He rasped.

"I know enough. I know you came back here and saved our family. And we can never repay you for that. And I know that I love you." Mary was caught a bit off guard when Dean crawled into her lap and rested his head on her chest. She ran her hand through his hair soothingly as he cried.

"Promise me?"

"What?" Mary asked.

"Will you… love me… no matter what?"

"Of course." Mary replied. "Dean, of course I will. I'll always love you. Forever."

He nodded his head, but other than that didn't move. They sat like that for a long while, Dean slowly calming and Mary wondering what exactly her son had gone through in his life to make him into this broken person that she now held.

_**Author's Note Part** **Two: **Okay... a bit angsty but the chapter title should've given that away... Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Up next, a trip back to the Winchester home and... hehehehehe, like I'm gonna give anything away... Please leave a review and let me know what you thought, thanks. And please call off the hellhounds..._


	44. Return Home

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone. Sorry for depressing you all with that last chapter... I want to thank FireChildSlytherin5, Nyx Ro, guest, elfinblue, liebedero, xAnita88x, pshhhhyeaaa, Invader Kiwi, if-llamas-could-fly, Silvermoon of Forestclan, numb3rs mystery, Mystereous Prophetess, VGiselleH, savannaharaiza5, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, BranchSuper, FireAngel5683, guest, celestialstarynight, LilyBolt, roy23, guest, Anewtah, Vampy, jazzy, guest, RoseDragon666, AlElizabeth, nourss, and Leoooo for their awesome reviews. You guys are great._

**Chapter Forty-Four: Return Home**

Castiel looked around the Winchesters' backyard as soon as they appeared. It was empty. He didn't want to reach out with his powers to feel for Alastair because that left the door open for Alastair to reach back in. And _that_ wouldn't end well. The only reason his rescue of Dean had gone off so smoothly was because Alastair had not known that Dean had an angel on his side. As soon as that advantage was gone, things were going to get a lot harder.

"Well, we better start digging." John announced, reaching for one of the shovels that Bobby held.

Castiel looked at him and then, without a word, took the stack of iron disks from the man's hands and closed his eyes. He imagined the entire property and the best places for the protection to be so that the devil's traps could not be avoided. The plates were transported to those spots instantly.

"It's done." The angel announced.

"Well, what the hell'd ya make me carry the shovels fer then?"

"I didn't instruct you to carry them."

"Ya didn't stop me either."

"I did not think you would appreciate being ordered to…"

"But ya thought I_ would_ appreciate lugging these heavy shovels fer no goddamn reason?"

"Do I have to send you both to your rooms?" John asked. "Behave yourselves."

Castiel looked around the yard. With the traps in place, they would now be going out to pick up the visually appealing containers to hold the holy water and get those installed next. After that, the three of them would start on the panic room. The plan was to go back to the Singer residence for dinner and cake tonight and hopefully finish the work tomorrow so that everyone could settle back into the house the following day. If Dean was emotionally ready, that was. Right now, Castiel's young friend was still quite traumatized.

They headed inside so that John could get the car keys and then went out front to get into the car. It was still strange to ride in the Impala without Dean being the one driving. Castiel couldn't think of the vehicle as belonging to anyone but him.

As they made their way down the walk, Bobby hurried past Castiel to get to the other front seat. John had his hand on the handle when they heard laughter from across the street.

"Well, well. What have we here? You boys heading off to the bar to drink away the excitement of the day? I hope you're not thinking of leaving poor little Dean to play all alone again. You never know what might happen… even in your own backyard."

Castiel looked up and saw Alastair standing in the neighbor's well maintained yard, wearing the body of a tall, dark haired man. The angel's first instinct was to march over there and strangle the demon with his bare hands. He wanted the monster to feel the pain that Dean had felt and to die slowly. But then he realized that that was not an option. Even if he managed to strangle the possessed body, the demon itself would not die. No, to get rid of Alastair once and for all they would need the colt. A head or heart shot would do it, of that he was certain. Alastair may be a powerful demon, too powerful for the knife, but he was still just a demon and the bullets would work. He'd only told John otherwise before because he'd been unsure whether or not they'd be able to take their adversary down with the first shot, and if not, Dean would've paid for their mistake. But now, with his friend safely out of harms way, Castiel was willing to risk the confrontation. He reached into his trench coat pocket and wrapped his fingers around the butt of the colt that he had retrieved from Dean's bedroom earlier.

"Ah, yes, mysterious, teleporting trench coat guy. Pull that gun out and shoot me. Maybe you'll kill me, maybe you won't. But the neighbors will ask a lot of questions, won't they? What will little Deannie do with his beloved family locked away in jail for murder? Who would protect him then? Or, maybe I'll just snap Daddy dearest's neck before you _can_ pull the trigger?"

Castiel hesitated. Those weren't bluffs. Alastair was more than capable of killing both Bobby and John before Castiel could take him out. Dean would never forgive the angel for that. And it _would _prove to be difficult to explain to the police why they shot a man for no apparent reason in the neighbor's front lawn. Slowly, the angel withdrew his empty hand from his pocket.

"Good choice. Although, I'm rather disappointed that we won't be having some sort of final stand off. Now _that_ would've been exciting."

"As exciting as your encounter with a five year old that bested you?" Castiel asked. "I see you needed to trade in your host body in for one with two working eyes."

Alastair sneered at him. "Make no mistake, when next I meet Dean Winchester, he will lose far more than an eye. I will take that brat somewhere real private and I will torture him in ways that none of you can even begin to imagine until he is begging me to let him tell me all his little secrets. I will cut him, slice him, burn him, tear the flesh from his bones, and perform unspeakable acts on his tiny body."

"That's my son you're talking about." John stepped forward menacingly.

"And what, pray tell, are you going to do about it Jonny-boy?"

"I will be the one to end you when the time comes."

"Promises, promises. But I assure you that you and I will not need to come to blows. You are nothing to me. Less than nothing. You're a man pretending to be a hunter. Not worth my time." Alastair turned his attention to Bobby. "I must say that I don't recognize you, but if you're a friend of the family, you've picked the wrong family to befriend. You make yourself a problem of mine and you will be taken care of." And then the demon turned his gaze back to Castiel. "But you. You who swooped in and saved Dean… just how did you do that? I didn't even detect a magic aftertaste when you were gone."

"Maybe you're not as all powerful as you think you are." Castiel informed him. "But I can tell you this. Stay away from Dean. Because John Winchester does not 'pretend' to hunt and he and his wife will not let you touch their child again. And this man is indeed a friend of the family. And a very good one at that. And, as for me, I can do far more than teleport without leaving a trace."

Alastair suddenly appeared right in front of them. "You think I'm afraid of you?"

"I am telling you that you should be."

There was a blur of movement behind Alastair and then Castiel saw John charging with the demon killing knife held in his hand. Castiel wondered what the man was doing since he'd already been told that the knife wouldn't kill this particular demon. Alastair spun around and a moment later the knife was buried deep into his upper left arm, in the exact spot where Dean had been stabbed. Castiel watched as lightening seemed to jump from the wound. John pulled down on the knife, tearing the flesh open before yanking the weapon free.

"How do _you_ like it you son of a bitch!" The enraged father screamed. And Castiel understood. It wasn't an attempt to kill the demon. It was revenge, pure and simple.

Castiel decided that it was probably a good time to retreat. He grabbed both men and thought about Bobby's house. Seconds later, they all stood in the living room, John still clutching the bloody knife. Bobby clasped him on the shoulder.

"Nice one, but you know that he could've skinned us all alive."

"He hurt my son."

"I know. Why do ya think I started off by sayin' 'nice one'?"

"What happened?" Mary wanted to know as she entered the room, Dean trailing behind her. The small hunter's eyes widened as he noticed the weapon in his father's hand.

"Castiel got the devil's traps in place but before we could get to the store to pick up the things for the holy water, Alastair showed up." John started to explain.

Castiel didn't fail to notice that what little color Dean had drained at the mention of the demon's name. "Did he… are you guys okay?" The boy's voice was barely audible, but there was an unmistakable edge under it, as though, if he didn't get the answer that he wanted, Dean would hunt Alastair down right that moment and somehow find a way to tear him limb from limb. He was small, hurt, and terrified, but still very much Dean.

"We're fine." John reassured his son. "He didn't touch us. Just stood there and gloated a bit and made with the threats."

"But the knife…"

"I said that _he_ didn't touch _us. _ Didn't say anything about the other way around."

Dean at first looked absolutely thrilled but then completely horrified. "Knife can't kill him! Alastair could've killed you!" Castiel cringed at how rough and painful the child's voice sounded.

"Your father knew that I could get us all out of there before we could be injured." Castiel himself was annoyed at John's impulsive actions with Alastair, but he understood them and also didn't want Dean any more upset than he already was.

Dean seemed to calm down a bit and nodded. He didn't attempt to talk again and the angel wondered if he'd used up all his voice with his exclamation earlier. Once again, Castiel wished that he could simply lay his hands on hid young friend and heal him. He loathed to see anyone suffer, but especially Dean. He sometimes wondered why someone as good and pure as Dean Winchester was made to live the life that he had. But those thoughts led to nothing but madness, so he shut down that way of thinking and turned back to the topic at hand.

John tossed the bloody knife to Bobby, who caught it by the handle, and picked up Dean. "So, Keys of Solomon are in place and the shopping trip and panic room work are postponed. What's going on here?"

"I found the ingredients in Bobby's kitchen to make a cake from scratch." Mary informed them. "But we'll have to order out for dinner."

"Works for me. What about you, Castiel?"

Castiel had learned many moths ago not to remind the Winchesters that he did not require food. In these instances, he was expected to partake in the dinner just like everyone else. "I believe I was informed once that pizza is an appropriate party food." He knew he'd said the right thing when Dean's face broke out in a huge grin.

"Will you be alright to swallow it?" Mary asked her son.

Dean looked over at her from where his father still held him and nodded. Just then, Sam toddled into the room holding onto the walls. He still had yet to let go and walk on his own, but the others were certain that it was only a matter of time. Dean said that he was already ahead of his schedule in the original timeline.

The baby looked up at the group. "Dee!"

"You know," John laughed. "There are other people in the room too."

"Not ta him, apparently." Bobby commented.

"Dee! Dee!" Sam let go of the wall to clap his hands and ended up falling on his backside. Instead of crying, he burst out in giggles.

"Well, let's get that pizza ordered and that cake made so that we can party, huh?" John questioned.

Castiel was pleased that despite the events of earlier that day, the Winchesters were still doing their best to enjoy what was left of Sam's first birthday. The angel looked at the family and thought to himself that perhaps they could all get through what was to come.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Thanks so much for reading and I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Up next... some more familiar faces..._


	45. Familiar Faces

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone. I want to thank elfinblue, VGiselleH, Gustin azza, ILYSASUKE, numb3rs mystery, FireChildSlytherin5, guest, MaddyWinchester, celestialstarynight, Shadowrogue9979, if-llamas-could-fly, Nyx Ro, savannaharaiza5, oh i got a face, Vampy, FireAngel568, Bing Bing 9312, BranchSuper, Silvermoon of Forestclan, angelofheaven001, Mysterious Prophetess, The Best Kind Of Mad, AlElizabeth, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, LilyBolt, guest, RoseDragon666, Leoooo, Elora0526, largofan, and Eliza Ghost for their awesome reviews. Your support for this is beyond amazing!_

**Chapter Forty-Five: Familiar Faces**

A third host body. A third! Never had Alastair had to trade in his meatsuit this many times due to injuries. Sure he could've waited for the wounds to heal, but ones created by iron, salt, holy water, or the demon killing items took longer to fix and he did not like to experience pain the same way he relished inflicting it. But still, switching hosts out of necessity was an insult. The Winchesters would suffer for this. And Alastair would enjoy every last second of it.

But first he was going to have to find a way to get to them. The demon knew that he could no longer get onto their property. Even the mailbox was safely inside the protected area, so waiting for someone to come out to pick up their mail and jumping them was out of the question. He'd missed his chance and he only had himself to blame. He'd had that brat on a chain and should've just taken him and left. But no, he'd had to stay and try to get the answers out of the mother. And then he'd allowed the child to trick him. Him! It wouldn't happen again. And when he laid his hands on that boy again, Dean Winchester would learn what real suffering was. He would get a taste of what true Hell was like.

"You won't be able to get in there." A small voice spoke up.

Alastair looked down to see what appeared to be a young girl standing next to him. So, the situation seemed to be getting even bigger. "I know that, Lilith. But they can't stay inside forever. John goes to work. Mary goes shopping. Dean will eventually go to school. There will be many opportunities for me to get my hands on them."

"And then what? Have Cas pull him out of your grasp again?"

Alastair was seething. If he wasn't full aware of what Lilith was capable of, he'd have snapped at her. But he held his tongue. "I won't let that happen again."

"You can't stop him. We don't know how. Yet."

"Yet? You have a plan?" Now his irritation was changing to curiosity.

"It's come to my attention that the angels have been spying on the Winchesters." Lilith began tossing her braided pigtails back and forth in an almost playful manner as she spoke in a singsong voice. "Seems they're just as curious as we are. But they aren't making any big moves. Just little ones. Move a piece here and there so they can study the family in action. I say we do the same. Once we know their weaknesses, we exploit them. And I promise you that Dean will be yours. After all, he _is_ the Righteous Man, so you'll get him both now and you'll get his soul once he grows up."

"I can get you all the answers we need a lot quicker if I had that boy."

"I doubt it. See, there is something very off about him. Dean is not a normal child. He is stubborn, determined, and has a strong spirit and we need to know what kind of tortures would work best. Because while Dean may not be normal, he _is _still just a human child. Even with the spells to keep him alive as long as possible, his body may give out too soon and then where will our plans be? And we also need to know more about his mysterious teleporting friend. Specifically what else he can do, any weaknesses he has, and how to stop him from popping in to rescue Dean again."

Alastair had to grudgingly admit that she had a point. "Then can I at least return to my duties in Hell?"

"As you wish. I'll keep an eye on Dean. After all, we _are_ a better match age wise." She laughed a nasty little laugh.

Alastair almost wished that he could stay to watch. Lilith was an artist almost as much as he was. And although she was insisting that they would take a back seat, he knew that she wouldn't be able to resist getting her hands at least a little dirty.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Dean wasn't sure what to expect when he appeared back inside his home. His dad, Cas, and Bobby had assured him that it was completely protected but he couldn't help but be nervous. And just what the hell was that about? He was Dean freakin' Winchester. He didn't do nervous. The boy drew himself up to his full (admittedly not very impressive) height and walked through the living room as though nothing bad had ever happened in that house. He wasn't a child and had acted like one long enough.

"I want to see how the fountains and birdbath came out." His mom commented. She was holding Sammy in her arms and walking towards the door.

"Well then, let's all go out into the backyard." His dad suggested.

And there went his courage. The backyard. The very place that Alastair had… nope not thinking about it. Dean took a deep breath and followed his parents to the back door. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't. Dean was a hunter and had been through Hell and back, so a swing set in his yard was not going to get the best of his nerves. But as the door swung open, Dean could vividly recall the feel of the chain wrapped around his neck, the metal biting his skin, his lungs completely deprived of oxygen. Still, he forced himself to step outside and into the grass. And when his eyes fell upon the swings, he let out a breath that he hadn't even realized that he'd been holding.

The swing set stood ready for use, all the chains gone and replaced by bright yellow nylon rope. Dean felt a smile come to his face as his dad placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Thought we could all use a bit of a change in the design before we used that thing again. And I had to go to the hardware store anyway, so I thought 'why the hell not'."

"Good thinking." Dean praised. He still wasn't quite ready to get on it, but with the chains replaced, maybe someday soon. And he had to admit that he loved his dad completely for thinking of changing out the chains for nylon ropes just to spare his son some mental discomfort. It was a gesture that Dean would never forget.

"The fountain is beautiful! And you set up a rock garden too? It looks lovely, John."

Dean turned to see what him mom was talking about. He wasn't an expert in home décor (and neither was his dad, so he knew that someone at the hardware store must've helped out) but even he knew that the yard was pretty cool looking. And since the fountain was blessed, they were safe too.

The small hunter left his parents and Sammy admiring the new decorations and started back inside with Cas close behind. Once in the house, Dean walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a can of cola. The longer he was home with nothing happening, the more relaxed he was feeling. He stepped up on the stepstool and from there sat up on the kitchen counter and snatched up an open bag of potato chips. Dean reached into the bag and was about to pop one into his mouth when there was a knock at the front door. He looked up at Cas.

"Demons can't even get past the front gate." The angel reminded him.

"Good enough for me." Dean commented, as he hopped off the counter. Still, he went to the backdoor and poked his head out. "We got company." He wasn't about to take any chances. If something was going to attack him, he wanted as much backup as possible.

Dean heard his dad instruct his mom to stay with Sammy as the boy walked to the front of the house. Cas was only a step or two behind him. The small hunter placed his left hand on the door knob and his right into his pocket where his knife was kept. He was ready.

Dean opened the door and looked up, prepared for a confrontation, only to see the slightly suspicious face of a (much younger than he remembered) Missouri Mosley. He blinked up at her in surprise. Dean had always figured that one day he'd go to see her, but had never figured that she'd show up on his doorstep. Just what the hell was she doing here?

"What the hell are you… I mean, uh, can I help you?" Dean asked.

But Missouri was now just staring at him. Dean heard his dad come up behind them and the woman's gaze never left the boy. He stared right back, feeling more than a little uncomfortable, as if he were naked in front of her. And he supposed he was, because he just knew that she could see everything.

"Oh, you poor child. What has happened to you?"

"Excuse me, who are you?" His dad asked.

"Are you this boy's dad?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"If you've laid a hand on this sweet child…"

"No, it wasn't him." Dean cut her off.

Missouri turned her complete attention back to him. She crouched down to be at level with him and reached out to lay her hand on his face. But she pulled back quickly, as if she'd been burned.

"What did this to you? How… how can someone so young be so broken? You can't be just a boy? It's not possible."

"How does she…" Dean's dad started to ask.

"She's a psychic." The young hunter replied. "She's okay."

"Oh. Well ma'am, to answer your question, my son has been through a lot recently and…"

"Don't you dare feed me a pack of lies!' Missouri scolded as she stood back up. "This child's soul is torn to pieces in ways I've never seen. And you," She pointed at Cas. "…whatever you are, may be doing a good job at hiding him, but I can see the damage. So, is anyone gonna tell me the truth?"

"You might wanna come on in and sit down for this, Missouri." Dean invited, as he stepped aside.

"Dean…" His dad started to warn.

"Dad, we either tell her the truth, or you keep trying to lie to her and see how long it takes her to put her tiny little size four shoe up your…"

"I got it." His dad cut him off.

"Boy, you got some mouth on you." Missouri reprimanded. "And you're the last one to be commenting on small size."

"Yeah, but I'm still gonna grow." Dean shot back.

Missouri walked inside. "Now, how do you know who and what I am?"

"I know a lot of things, but that comes with the explanation that you get once you're sitting down." Dean informed her. He could feel her still staring at him. He knew that she was also curious about Cas, but to a psychic of her caliber, he was the most interesting thing in the room. He knew that she was probably not capable of really seeing his actual soul, but if she was seeing even a fraction of his true self crammed into the body of a five year old, then that had to be disconcerting.

"Well, I can tell this is gonna be good." Missouri commented before turning to Dean's dad. "And you watch your language. No wonder your boy has a mouth on him!"

"I didn't say anything!" His dad protested.

"You didn't have to. Your thoughts are screaming it at me. And not very kindly, mind you."

Dean laughed. It was nice not to be the only one getting it from this woman for once.

Once they were all in the living room, Dean turned to his dad. "You can tell Mom that it's safe to come in."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah."

Once his entire family was gathered, Dean turned back to Missouri. To her credit, the psychic hadn't asked any questions yet. She'd just continued to study him. It must've seemed strange to her that he was the one that everyone was listening to.

"Okay, before I get started with my long and very strange story, I got a question of my own. Why are you here?"

"Are you serious? Your family made this entire place a beacon just screaming 'go away' to any dark creatures out there. It got me curious, and I had to know what was going on and if there was anything I had to be concerned about. And then a boy that has a soul that looks like it went through a meat grinder answers the door and I just have even more questions."

Dean shrugged. "Fair enough. Introductions first. Everyone, this is Missouri Mosley, a really awesome psychic. Missouri, my name's Dean Winchester. This is my dad, John, my mom, Mary, my brother, Sam, and this is Cas." He took a deep breath, wondering how to begin. "Okay, this is gonna be hard to believe but since you know when people are feeding you crap, you'll know I'm not lying. So here goes: when I was four years old my mom was killed by a demon. My dad saw her burning on the ceiling and went looking for answers. He actually ended up talking with you."

"What?" Missouri asked.

"What?" John echoed.

"Yeah, I forgot to mention her name to you guys earlier." Dean shrugged. "But let me finish. You told him about what's really out there. He became a hunter. Dad taught me to hunt too and we traveled across the country saving people and killing every evil son of a bitch that we could. When Sammy was old enough he learned the truth too. Eventually, we grew up. And then I met you while I was trying to track down Dad, who'd gone off to kill the demon who'd killed Mom. But the demon eventually killed Dad too. And things went way downhill after that. Which is why my soul looks like it went through a meat grinder. Yours would too if you spent time in Hell. But Cas here got me out. He's an angel, by the way." Dean enjoyed the shocked look on Missouri's face. Not too many times a person could completely surprise a psychic. "Anyway, when things went from really bad to really worse, Cas transferred my adult consciousness into my four year old body back in last November and I stopped all the crap in my life from happening by helping my parents to kill the demon before he could set all of it into motion."

Missouri stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. "But your emotions… they read like a child's. If what you say is true, then you'd be an adult."

"Dean's memories and his soul are that of an adult." His mom answered. "But everything else is that of his actual physical age."

"That must be confusing for all of you."

"Understatement." Dean muttered.

"And what happened to your neck."

Dean touched the bruises left behind by Alastair's attack. "There's a reason that we're protecting this place. The demons aren't happy that we're fighting back."

She turned to Cas. "You're an angel, boy. Smite them and get them to leave this child alone. 'Cause you're not going to tell me that the bad guys are stronger than the good guys."

"They aren't. But not all the good guys are good." Cas answered. "Some of my brothers and sisters would see me destroyed for helping the Winchesters and then they would tear Dean down just as the demons would."

"So he's in like an angel witness protection program." Dean finished, wincing at the fact that he had semi-quoted Gabriel. "That means there's some powers he can't use. So, no smiting. No healing. And no beating me at Pong."

"I came close." The angel insisted.

"Only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." Dean shot back.

"So why are you telling me all this?" Missouri interrupted them.

"I told you. I met you already, in my original timeline. I know you can be trusted. I also know that it's impossible to lie to you." Dean shrugged. "Besides, if you can sort of see my soul, it's only a matter of time before you start to piece stuff together and I'd rather have it come from me than have you come up with some half-assed theory."

"Boy, you keep talking like that to me and your backside is gonna be just as bruised as your soul." Missouri scolded.

"You know, I actually missed you." Dean admitted with a grin.

"A boy I never met missed me. This is definitely the strangest day I've ever had." The woman shook her head. "Is there anything I can do for your family?" She looked around at all of them.

"Yeah." Dean answered. "First, for your own safety as well as ours, don't tell anyone what we told you. And I mean _anyone_."

"Right, 'cause I was going to publish it in tomorrows newspaper. I'm not stupid."

"'Course not. But what we could use is maybe a heads up if you hear of anything in the area. You have connections and that whole psychic crap going on, so if you feel a disturbance in the Force, give us a call."

"Boy, you're ten kinds of strange."

"But I'm eleven kinds of awesome."

"You keep telling yourself that. But yeah, I'll help." She turned her attention to his parents. "And you take care of him. He's not the adult he thinks he is."

"Hey! Right here, and yes, I am!" Dean protested.

"Dean's situation is very complicated, but we're all learning about it together." His father replied placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Good, because the next time I visit, I don't want to see a mark on that boy, got it? And don't you roll your eyes at me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Dean heard his dad mutter.

"Now, I know that that wasn't sarcasm…"

"Dad doesn't even know what sarcasm is." Dean defended with a grin.

"Uh huh." She shook her head, before turning to his mom. "You have your work cut out for you."

"Don't I know it. It was nice meeting you, Missouri. And thank you for agreeing to help."

"Your boy has been through enough. I'll do what I can to ease his pain."

"We appreciate it." Dean watched as she shook his mom's then his dad's hands.

Then she knelt down in front of him and gave him a hug. A slight shiver ran through her at the contact and he remembered how she'd pulled away before. When Dean stepped back, he looked up at her.

"What'd you feel?"

"Pain. How do you live with all that?"

Dean shrugged. "What other choice do I have?"

"You take care of yourself. And watch your mouth." She added with a smile.

"I wouldn't be me if I did."

Dean watched her leave. He knew they'd given her quite a shock today, and he felt kind of bad about it. While he'd enjoyed seeing her, he didn't like the idea that he might've just put her in danger by opening her eyes to the truth. But maybe having another member in Team Winchester would turn out to be a good thing.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. I know Missouri wasn't in it too much but she'll be back. And so will Lilith... Up next, another little time jump, some action, and some other stuff going on. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	46. Future Plans and Nighttime Hunts

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone. I have an announcement to make. I have had so many hellhounds sent my way that I have taken to breeding and training them. It's actually quite fun. But really, I just wanted to say that a few of you questioned Lilith's appearence since she IS NOT supposed to be released from Hell yet. Was this a mistake on my part? Nope. But I cannot even give a hint at this point as to what is going on without ruining future plot points. But I do want to thank guest, VGiselleH, liebedero, Nyx Ro, numb3rs mystery, apshep10, FireChildSlytherin5, guest, nourss, Mysterious Prophetess, LilyBolt, Jasper6509, Invader Kiwi, if-llamas-could-fly, EllyKayWasHere, savannaharaiza5, AttitudeQueen5287, Vampy, Angel of Nightfall, FireAngel5683, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, Shadowrogue9979, BranchSuper, Gustin azza, X5EgSparks, celestialstarynight, samiam13, RoseDragon666, Ph0enix-Flyer, Anewtah, Bing Bing 9312, Silvermoon of Forestclan, roy23, Simple-Star-Dust, and TheBaneOfOlympus91 for their awesome reviews. _

**Chapter Forty-Six: Future Plans and Nighttime Hunts **

Summer had passed quickly for the Winchester family. Between the backyard barbeques, trips to the beach, little league games (yep, Dean's dad had convinced him to play again that year and with his hunter training he'd been the best damned player out there), and the supernatural hunts they had kept busy. And no demons had popped up since the beginning of May. So, as August came to a close, things were looking up. Well, except for the fact that Dean had still not found a way to talk himself out of going to kindergarten and school was starting in just two days.

Seriously, you'd think that he had the winning argument just by pointing out that he was in his thirties and could read not only English but Latin, so what the hell did he need to go and learn his ABCs for? But he'd been hit with several counters including that they had to keep up appearances, he needed a diploma, he needed to set a good example for Sam (and damn them both for bringing _that_ up), and many other excuses that Dean had eventually just tuned out. But in the end, he'd lost. Yet he still hadn't given up. Which is why he turned his most pleading gaze up to his mom as he sat in the deserted playground a few hours after sunset.

"C'mon, Mom. It makes absolutely no sense and you know it. I'm way too old for kindergarten."

"That's not what your birth certificate says."

"Screw the birth certificate. You know what I mean."

"Language, Dean."

"Sorry. But look, that's another issue. I'm me. And I won't be able to not be me in school and you're gonna get tired of getting calls from the principle."

"I'm sure we'll figure it out. But if you don't go to school, people _will_ question it. And we don't want any trouble. Besides, you need to get a diploma if you want to go to college some day."

Dean snorted.

"What's so funny about that?"

Dean shrugged. "Not going."

"Why not?"

"Sammy's thing. Not mine."

"You're not interested? What are you going to be when you grow up?" At his look, she quickly amended her statement "Physically, I mean."

"A hunter."

"And…"

"No and. Just a hunter."

His mom sighed. "You need a career too, Dean."

"Doesn't work that way, Mom."

"Yes, it does. Your dad has a job. And there's absolutely no reason that you can't go to college and get a job outside of hunting."

Now it was Dean's turn to sigh. "I already told you what life was like when I grew up the first time. Do you remember me mentioning a nine to five?"

"It doesn't have to be like that this time around. You're incredibly smart, Dean. It would be a waste for you to give up on any dreams of a future based on what you went through the first time. If you go through school, graduate, and go to college, you can get any job you want and hunt on the side. Your father does it, Bobby has his salvage yard, the Harvelles have their own business. It seems that you and your alternate family are the only ones that didn't have a real life outside hunting."

"There were other full time hunters." Dean replied defensively.

"And how sane were they?" His mom asked.

Dean chewed on his bottom lip a moment before replying. "They were about as pathetically screwed up as me."

"I didn't mean it like that." She sat up on the picnic table next to him and wrapped her arm around him. "I just want you to be happy, Dean. And I know that saving people makes you happy, but I think you want more than just that. And while _you_ may not remember when you were four years old very well, it wasn't that long ago to me, and I remember a little boy that dreamed of being a firefighter. Now, that dream may have changed, but I'm sure you have interests outside of hunting. And you'll have quite a few years before you graduate to figure out what they are. And then, whatever happens with all this demons and angels and end of the world stuff, you are going to go and pursue those dreams too, Dean. But, first you have to start in kindergarten."

"Have you ever heard of homeschooling?"

"Not happening, Dean. I don't know what the laws are like in your time, but right now, I'd need to get tested and our home would need to be evaluated and it might draw unwanted attention. Besides, don't you want to set a good example for your little brother?"

Damn. There was that argument again. "Fine, I'll go. But I won't like it. And you'll have to deal with all the phone calls from the school."

"Well, then _you'll_ just have to deal with being grounded all the time."

"Hey, you can't ground me! I'm pretty much the same age as you! Besides…" his argument was cut off by a beeping sound coming from his mom's shoulder bag. It was the walkie-talkie she had in there. His dad was signaling, which could only mean one thing. "Show time."

"I'll see you soon, sweetie." She kissed his forehead and walked off.

Dean jumped off the table and shoved his hands into his pockets. He wandered over to the merry-go-round and stood up on it with one foot, while holding onto the metal bar. He pushed off with his left foot, spinning the blue and silver ride around, trying to look like an innocent child having fun in a playground after dark. A perfect target for the nasty creature that had been snatching kids up from this area over the past week.

This hadn't been one of original timeline John Winchester's hunts, but Bobby had called asking for a favor because the only hunter that had been in the area had died months ago in a pickup truck when Michael smote the crap out of him. So, with three kids missing and more sure to disappear, the Winchesters got to work. Dean, his mom and Cas had handled most of the research and had narrowed down the suspects to only a handful of monsters. Dean had never really realized it before but there were a lot of creatures that preyed on children. He really didn't get it. Most of them were strong enough to easily overpower a full grown man, so what the hell were they doing picking on little kids? But then again, a lot of full grown humans liked to eat veal, right? At that thought, Dean vowed to never to eat veal again.

They'd gotten their best lead when a tabloid had published an artists' drawing of the supposed attacker along with the story of how 'Spring Heeled Jack' was still alive and killing children. That meant the monster in question was no doubt a grawlton, since hunters believed them to be the truth behind that particular myth. They were nasty, rotten smelling creatures with two sets of knees, one bending forwards one backwards, that could jump amazing heights and loved to kidnap children and eventually eat them. The good news was that for some reason grawltons never started to eat their captives until they were finished collecting them, and at only three children, this monster was far from finished. So there was still a chance for the Winchesters to save the missing kids.

Dean hummed quietly, hoping that Cas got back soon. It was the angel's job to find the kids and get them to safety. Cas had asked why they didn't simply set up an ambush there for when the creature got back, but when it got returned to its lair it would most likely be holding a child and that would not end well. But they also couldn't risk leaving the kids there. If their attack on the grawlton went south and it escaped, the creature might just decide to cut its loses and eat what it managed to collect before skipping town.

As the merry-go-round spun, Dean pushed off on the ground one last time and then pulled both feet onto the ride. It was actually kind of fun. But he didn't let it distract him from his job. He was the bait, sure, but he was also a hunter and he was going to make sure that the monster didn't sneak up on him. Over the sound of the wind whipping past his ears, the boy heard soft footsteps approaching and the light breeze carried the scent of rot. Dean wrinkled his nose and tried not to gag. These things smelled gross. Dean dropped his left leg off the metal ride and dragged it on the ground lightly to slow the merry-go-round. The young hunter didn't let it stop, though. He wanted to appear as if he was still playing.

Even though he was expecting the attack, Dean was still surprised when the monster suddenly dropped down on the merry-go-round in front of him. The boy got a good look at the thing that was responsible for the recent child abductions. The parts of its grayish skin that were visible (which was most of it's body as it was only wearing a pair of torn, dirty jeans) were peeling off and it had long talon-like claws at the end of its fingers. Its eyes were red, and its grotesquely large mouth was filled with two rows of sharp yellow teeth.

"You need to see a dermatologist and a dentist, dude." Dean informed it, before launching himself off the playground ride. He crawled underneath it and grabbed the airgun that he had stashed there earlier that evening. His hand had just gotten a hold of it when he felt something sharp tear into the skin of his ankle. Dean was pulled out from under the merry-go-round with one sharp jerk.

The small hunter flipped himself over onto his back to get a clear shot at the monstrosity, but the thing batted the weapon from his hands. Damned but the grawlton was strong. And it now perceived Dean not only as a victim but as a possible threat. It raised its clawed hand high and started to bring it down in a brutal strike when a shot rang out. Unfortunately, the monster must've heard something before Dean had because it moved quickly and the bullet only skimmed its head rather than pierce its brain like was needed to kill it. The grawlton howled in pain and anger.

When it leapt off of Dean, the boy was on his feet in a second, ignoring the slight pain from the cuts on his ankle. He grabbed his weapon and looked around for the creature. With the way it could jump, the monster could be anywhere. And now that its attack on Dean was over and they had failed to kill it, the Winchesters had to move on to their backup plan.

They had decided that if this scenario happened, they would spread out, each searching a third of the playground in an attempt to kill the grawlton before it could flee. There was no sign of it on the slides, the swings, or the monkey bars. That was Dean's area to cover and he knew better than to leave it and check on his parents without being called. They had to stick to the plan. If the grawlton got out of the park, they might lose their only chance to catch it and then many more children would die.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Clear."

"Clear." His dad responded.

Dean felt his heart sink. Maybe they were too late already. But when his mom didn't give the all-clear, he became nervous. If she wasn't signaling that could only mean that she had it in her sights but couldn't say anything without giving away her position. Or it could mean that it had killed her… no. Not going there. She was a kick ass hunter and wasn't about to let some random fugly, stinky piece of crap monster take her out. Still, Dean silently moved closer to her position.

He'd just crouched down behind the bushes at the edge of the area they had designated as his, when he heard a crashing sound followed by his mom's surprised cry. Holding his airgun at the ready, Dean rushed out of his hiding spot and ran towards where the sounds had come from, praying that he wouldn't be too late.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Just a little cliffhanger here... Hope you all enjoyed. And I'll answer two questions right now. 1) Don't worry, Dean WILL be protected while in school. 2) The grawlton is a creature I made up. If it seem familiar at all to you, it's because it was in a couple chapters of my story 'Will the Real Dean Winchester Please Stand Up'. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	47. A Job Finished, A Journey Begun

_**Author's Note: **HI everyone. You'll be pleased to know the hellhound puppies are doing just fine... and have only tried to drag my soul to Hell a few times... Anyways, I want to thank nourss, angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, Mizunou, Kershaw, TheBaneOfOlympus91, LilyBolt, liebedero, Nyx Ro, Mysterious Prophetess, Invader Kiwi, Jasper6509, Gustin azza, b, FireChildSlytherin5, AislynnRose2010, Lady No Da 201, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, savannaharaiza5, MaddyWinchester, EllyKayWasHere, Star-Simple-Dust, guest, celestialstarynight, SerahJohnson, if-llamas-could-fly, AlElizabeth, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. You guys are the best audience ever._

**Chapter Forty-Seven: A Job Finished, A Journey Begun **

Mary was disappointed that her shot had not killed the grawlton, yet she was immensely relieved that the monster had leapt off of her son. The thing was much faster than she had expected and had been about to deliver what could have been a crippling, if not deadly, blow to Dean by the time she had managed to aim and fire. She had not been a fan of using her boy as bait in the first place, and had only gone along with the plan when Dean had pointed out that it was better him than waiting for the monster to attack an unsuspecting and defenseless child.

Of course, now that things had gone sideways, they had to hope that the creature would stay in the area and not try to escape and run back to its lair. So she tried to push back any lingering concerns over Dean (not easy for a mother) and concentrate on tracking the grawlton. Mary listened for any sounds, looked for any movement, and took a deep breath to see if there was any rotten scent in the area. Nothing. Wait. No. There it was. A nasty odor coming from… above?

Without further warning, a heavy weight dropped down on top of her knocking the hunter to the ground. Mary let out a cry of surprise and pain as her back and her elbows hit the gravel hard. She had no time to recover, as the creature started to try and tear her apart with its long claws. Her body fell completely flat as she used her arms to defend her face and torso, rather than to prop herself up. Mary felt the sharp talons rip into her forearms and couldn't bite back her scream of pain.

"Hey, leave her alone, asshole! Aren't I more your size?" Dean. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to the vulgar language being said in his childish little voice. And while she was relieved that the grawlton paused its attack on her, the fear for her son's safety now returned. Especially when its weight disappeared from her body. Because that meant that Dean was its target once more.

Despite the pain she was in. Mary struggled into a sitting position to see what was going on. Dean was standing on top of a picnic table, airgun held down at his side and a defiant look plastered on his young face. His gaze was directed to the trees above, so Mary assumed that that was where the grawlton had leapt to. She made a move to grab her weapon that was lying on the ground where it had fallen when she'd been ambushed, but her arms protested the motion. She glanced at the damage that the monster's claws had caused and realized that it was worse that she had thought. Each arm had cuts running from elbow to three inches above her wrists. Had they been any deeper or gone any further down, she'd have now been in danger of bleeding out. As it was, Mary was unsure if she'd be able to accurately fire her gun with her arms shaking from the amount of pain they were in. And she sure as hell wasn't going to risk accidently shooting her own son if she couldn't hold the weapon steady.

Mary looked back over just in time to see the creature drop down in front of Dean. The boy threw himself off the table and rolled under it as a shot rang out. John must also be nearby. But again, the thing moved too fast and the bullet merely skimmed the side of its face. Mary had never battled a grawlton before and could never have imagined that they were this fast. It jumped off the table, probably planning on dragging Dean out again. Mary knew that if it got its hands on the boy again, there was a good chance that it would just kill him and leap away, carrying his corpse with it as a snack for later. She couldn't let that happen. The hunter got to her feet, still unsure of how she was going to stop the monster with two torn up and bleeding arms, but unwilling not to try.

Then she heard the sound of the airgun going off. But, with his weapon he'd have to shoot it through the eye, and there was no way that Dean could make that shot from under the picnic table. Then Mary saw what he was doing. Dean was laying on his belly, gun held at the ready, his aim perfect as he shot once, twice, three times, then four. Each of his shots took out one of the grawlton's four kneecaps, the very feature that allowed the monster to jump such amazing heights and move at impressive speeds. The creature went down with an inhuman screech. Only when it was on its back, did Dean crawl out from under the table and approach it.

"Not so fast now, are you bitch?"

The grawlton snarled and took a swipe at him with its clawed hand. The small boy hopped easily out of its reach.

"Move back, son. I'll take it from here." John stepped up holding his gun.

Dean shook his head. "I got it, Dad. Take care of mom, please."

John looked between her and their son before finally nodding. "Okay. I guess I do have more first aid experience." It was his way of letting the argument go without really letting Dean boss him around.

Dean positioned himself to the side of the creature and aimed right into its eye and pulled the trigger. The grawlton spasmed and then it was over. Dean looked down at the thing with an expression of disgust written all over his features. He muttered something in a low voice that Mary only caught part of but she was pretty sure that he was blaming himself for her getting hurt on the hunt. They were definitely going to have to talk about this when they got back home.

Mary gasped as something brushed her right arm. Looking up, she saw John hovering over her. She'd been so focused on their son that she hadn't realized that her husband had gotten out the first aid kit and had already gotten to work.

"Some of these might need to be sewn up when we get back. The rest should be okay with just butterfly bandages and gauze."

"Great, so I'll have to suffer through long sleeves when we go anywhere."

"Nah." John shook his head. "These look like animal scratches. We can say a dog jumped you or something. It'll be fine."

"Well, that problem's solved." She growled out through clenched teeth as her husband wrapped up the wounds.

"What's the next problem?" He asked.

"What to do with Stinky's rotting corpse." Dean replied as he joined them.

"We can't just leave it here. We don't have shovels to bury it and there's too much risk of causing fire or drawing attention to burn it." Mary continued.

John shrugged. "Cas can dispose of it when he gets back."

Mary smiled. Her husband had taken to calling the angel 'Cas' most of the time instead of Castiel. "If he gets here before the police. But with all the gunfire going off in a playground, someone was bound to have called them."

"So, does that mean that I _don't_ have time to play on the slides?" Dean asked with a devilish grin on his face.

John laughed. "You're something else, buddy, you know that?"

"Yep." Dean replied somewhat distractedly, as he looked around.

"What is it?" Mary questioned.

"I thought I heard something." Dean looked over to the left and squinted.

Mary followed his gaze. She didn't see anything at first, but then the hunter made out what seemed to be the figure of a small child, just slightly bigger than her son.

"Hello?" She called out. "Who's there? Don't be scared."

The child stepped forwards. It was a little girl with long dark hair. She glanced at John and Mary but then turned her attention to Dean. Mary hoped that the girl had just arrived and hadn't seen or heard any of the commotion of just a few minutes before. There were already three children out there that were going to be traumatized for life from their encounter with the grawlton, it would be nice if this girl could be spared the nightmares.

"What are you doing out here?" John asked in a gentle voice. "Where are your parents?"

"I'm lost." The girl replied. She was still looking at Dean and was now smiling. Mary would wonder if the little girl had a crush. She looked down at Dean and saw that he looked really uncomfortable. Just then, sirens could be heard in the distance.

"The police will be here soon." Mary assured her. "They'll be able to find your Mommy and Daddy."

"We should go." Dean spoke up.

Mary knew that he was right, getting arrested was not in their plans, but she was hesitant to leave with the body of the creature still lying there and a small girl just a few feet away. What if she saw it? Or worse yet, what of a human threat found her before the cops got there. Monsters weren't the only bad things out there.

"We can leave now."

All three Winchesters turned to see Castiel standing near the body of the grawlton.

"What should we do about her?" Mary asked, nodding in the girl's direction.

"About who?" The angel question, cocking his head to the side.

Mary turned to where the girl was standing and… correction, where the girl _had_ _stood_. She must've taken off when Castiel had appeared. Maybe she'd seen him pop out of nowhere and gotten spooked. Mary hoped that she found her way home or that the police found her first. But for now, she had her own family to worry about. They had only a few moments to finish up and get out of there unless they wanted to have to answer questions they'd have no easy answers for.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Dean sighed as he climbed out of the backseat of the Impala and closed the backdoor. That, at least, had been one battle that he had won. Because Dean Winchester was _not_ riding to school on a freakin' yellow kiddie bus. So yeah, he'd won that argument, but here he was, trudging across the schoolyard, on his way into Hell.

It was weird, though. He didn't know what to expect. Dean had never actually been to kindergarten. When September had rolled around that first year, his dad had refused to send him to school. He'd been afraid that something would happen to the boy and, most importantly, he'd needed someone to take care of Sammy. So Dean had not been allowed to start school until the following year. Then it had just been a matter of starting him in a town where kindergarten had been optional rather than mandatory and saying that since his mom had died Dean had not been emotionally ready for school until then. Sure, it had set Dean back initially, but the boy had managed to catch up before too long. Of course, things like that were not going to be issues this time around. The biggest problems he'd face now was how to blend in and how to deal with his extreme boredom.

"This is gonna suck, Cas." He muttered to his friend, even though he knew that the angel couldn't respond. Cas was in full stealth mode, tailing Dean and completely invisible to everyone. This was the only way that the Winchesters could be sure that Dean would be safe while away from home. It would be nice though if they could talk with each other. That would help entertain him a bit. Oh well, at least he'd be content knowing that he wasn't going to be the only one being bored to death for the next thirteen years.

As he approached the front of the school, Dean adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. It wasn't a lameass cartoon one like most of the ones he was seeing, but a dark gray camouflage pattern. He was dressed in jeans, his little league jersey over a black t-shirt, and a pair of brand new black and grey sneakers. His mom had given him a trim the night before, so his hair stuck up in fresh, cool-looking spikes. The only thing the ruined his image was the severely dorky yellow name tag that identified him as 'Dean' in class 'K-1'. A young blonde woman wearing a bright pink shirt and a floral skirt and holding a clipboard walked up to him.

"Are you here for kindergarten?"

"No, I'm a high schooler." Dean replied with a roll of his eyes. Damn. And he'd promised his mom that he wouldn't do that.

Luckily, the woman just smiled at him. "Well, aren't you cute? What's your name?"

Cute? "Dean Winchester."

"Okay, Dean. Well, I'm lining up the kindergarteners over here. So, why don't you join the class and we'll be going inside in just a moment."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

"Great!" She replied, with way too much enthusiasm. Dean thought about suggesting that she cut back on the caffeine, but then reconsidered. No need to be labeled a smart-ass trouble maker before he'd even set foot in the building.

Once the last two kids joined him in line, they were all led into a brightly colored classroom.

"Hello, children!" A dark haired woman wearing a hideous power-suit greeted. "I'm Mrs. Bradley and I'll be your teacher for the year. This is my helper, Miss Irving." She gestures to Miss Too-Much-Caffeine. "Please everyone take a seat at the tables and sit with your feet in front of you and your hands folded on top of the table." Dean briefly considered the possibility that he had somehow been recaptured by Alastair and this was some new version of Hell. "Now, in this classroom we all treat each other with respect. That's a big word that means we don't talk unless we are asked to, and we don't say mean things, and we listen to the adults, and we act nice to everyone. So, if we can all do this and we can all be friends, I know that we will all learn a lot and have a super fun year."

Nope. This wasn't Hell. Because right about now, Dean was pretty sure that he was missing Hell.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. More schooling, hunts, and surprises headed your way..._


	48. Behahavior Issues

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! As many of you guessed, the creepy little girl in the last chapter was none other than Lilith, keeping an eye on Dean just like she said she would. Those of you who figured it out have won an invisible hellhound puppy as a prize! I want to thank numb3rs mystery, FireChildSlytherin5, Anewtah, angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, elfinblue, Nyx Ro, Gustin azza, angel de acuario, Hasmik Aharonyan, ShadowRogue9979, Jasper6509, Invader Kiwi, LilyBolt, Malallory, liebedero, mizunou, EllyKayWasHere, guest, SkyHighFan, AlElizabeth, savannaharaiza5, SerahJohnson, nourss, guest, Dark Knight Warrior, Eliza Ghost, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, celestialstarynight, BranchSuper, Kat, RoseDragon666, FireAngel5683, Mysterious Prophetess, MagWitch, if-llamas-could-fly, tillthewheelsfalloff, Angel of Nightfall, roy23, and 4evrwithSirius for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome._

**Chapter Forty-Eight: Behavior Issues **

Dean had tried. He really had put a lot of effort into behaving himself in school and hadn't gotten in any real trouble for the first five weeks. Sure he'd been spoken to about the occasion word that had slipped from his mouth (nothing really bad either, just words like dumb, stupid, sucks, and things like that) and he'd been talked to about how he never seemed to play with the other kids, but he held his sarcastic comments to himself and was always polite. He did his work, kept quiet, and stayed out of trouble. It wasn't easy since the teacher for some reason had been targeting him since day one (and she wasn't possessed; he'd checked) and her assistant was driving him crazy with her sugary sweet comments, but he was managing. That was, until the sixth week of school.

Dean sat at the table in between Mark and Traci with his head down on his arms. He was completely exhausted since he had stayed up late the night before helping his parents out with a salt and burn. He'd begged them not to leave him behind, not wanting something as lame as kindergarten to interrupt his job as a hunter, but now he was kind of regretting that decision. His little five and a half year old body seemed to need a bit more rest than his adult body had. Oh well, in an hour or so they'd have nap time and maybe he'd actually sleep today. Cas would just have to join him in dreamland and they could escape the boredom that was his life six hours a day, five days a week. But until then, he'd just have to keep his head down and pray for the best.

"Dean! We are learning now. Not sleeping. Please pick up your head. This is not showing your teacher respect."

Damn Mrs. Bradley and her 'respect' crap. But Dean lifted his head and favored her with the best smile he could muster. "Sorry, Mrs. Bradley."

"Well, you can make up for it by paying attention. Remember class, that is a big word that means eyes up front and ears listening. So, this week, we are starting to learn the letter 'F'." Dean sighed. They were doing one letter per week, learning the sound and how to write it, sound it out, words that started with it, and doing all sorts of childish projects revolving around it. It was sheer torture. "Look at the worksheet I passed out and you can all see what the letter looks like. That is an 'F'. Does anyone know a word that begins with the letter 'F'?"

Okay, so it was completely juvenile, but Dean couldn't help snickering. And it hadn't made it any easier that both adults had been staring straight at him while the question was asked. And now he was stuck. He knew by the looks that he was getting that he had to come up with an answer, but he could not say what was on his mind unless he wanted a trip to the principal's office. If they didn't like words like 'stupid', swears like the dreaded f-word would get him in deep crap. So he quickly said the next word that popped into his head.

"Freak." Well, that probably wouldn't be too much better in Mrs. Language-Patrol's book.

"Dean! What have we said about those kinds of words?"

"But it _does_ start with the letter 'F'." He argued in his most innocent voice.

"Yes, but we don't say hurtful words in this classroom. If you called another person that word it could make them cry. And then you'd feel bad. So, when it is playtime, you will sit at your desk with your head down for the first five minutes."

Dean didn't point out that he had tried to do just that a few minutes ago and had gotten in trouble for it. "Fine." He replied. "Which is another word that starts with 'F'." He muttered.

"You're right, but I don't like you're attitude very much." Mrs. Bradley scolded. "Now class, Dean says the word 'fine' starts with 'F', so what sound does the letter make?"

Most of the kids enthusiastically made the correct sound and the teacher congratulated them. Dean tuned everything out as he turned his attention to the worksheet in front of him. There were large dark lines on it with big 'F's written in light dotted print. Dean knew that the class was going to be instructed later to used their pencils to trace over the letters to learn to write them correctly. By the end of the week, they would be expected to be able to write the letters without the benefit of tracing. Since these worksheets were merely practice and did not have to be turned in, Dean flipped his over and began writing, using his arm as cover so that the other kids couldn't see what he was doing. God, he was bored.

"Dean! Pay attention!"

The boy flipped the paper over quickly before realizing his mistake. He'd just called even more attention to what he had been doing.

"Sorry." He apologized, hoping that she'd leave well enough alone.

"This isn't art time, Dean. What were you drawing?"

"Uh, a smile face. But I'll stop now. I'll pay attention. I'm sorry."

"I'm afraid that doesn't make it better, Dean. You've done nothing but cause trouble today. Now give me your paper and go sit in the corner."

"Yes, ma'am." Dean got to his feet and folded his paper with his writing on the inside, hoping that Mrs. Bradley wouldn't open it up. He handed it to her and started making his way to the chair that was sitting at the far end of the room.

"Dean's in trouble! He's a bad boy!" Frank sang out. He was a total ass.

"Frank, there is another chair waiting for you if you don't stop right now." Miss Irving informed him. Of course, coming from the always cheerful teaching assistant, the threat didn't sound very intimidating.

Dean was almost to the chair when he heard the rustling of paper. Mrs. Bradley was opening his worksheet. Oh man, he was totally screwed. His parents were going to kill him.

"I'm dead, Cas." He whispered. "I screwed up."

There was an audible gasp from the teacher. "Dean? Did you… did you write this?"

"Uh… yeah." He'd been the only one with access to the pencil and the worksheet so it wasn't like he could lie about it.

"What is it?" Miss Irving asked. "Did he write out the letter?"

Dean didn't turn to face them, but heard footsteps as the younger woman walked over to the classroom teacher. She let out a gasp as well and then they whispered amongst themselves.

"Class, Miss Irving is going to stay here and continue the lesson with you. Dean, please come with me to the principal's office."

Dean hung his head in defeat as he turned around. Some of his classmates let out a chorus of 'oooohhhhh's as he passed and Frank snickered at him. Dean suppressed the urge to flip him off.

The young hunter trudged down the hall, following Mrs. Bradley towards the front offices. He felt the presence of Cas at his right side, but knew that the angel could do nothing to help him out of this mess that he had created. What the hell had he been thinking?

When they reached the office, he was instructed to sit on the bench. Dean did as he was told, knowing that his mom was being called to come to the school. He swung his feet back and forth, biting at his bottom lip. He should've been more careful. But no, not him. Dean Winchester was apparently as reckless as everyone always said he was. Because what other reason was there for him to have been writing out freakin' plans for demon battles during kindergarten class? Luckily, he'd been using shorthand, so it wasn't like the teachers were going to figure out what he was talking about. And it _was_ a couple of weeks before Halloween so he had a perfect excuse for using words such as 'demons' and 'Hell', but how to explain how a five year old was writing sentences? Oh yeah, this meeting was going to be fun.

Dean was left alone on the bench until his mom arrived at the school. She wasn't holding Sammy, which meant that one of their neighbors must've gone to the house to watch him, since Cas was here at school with Dean. It was perfectly safe for the toddler due to the fact that nothing supernatural could set foot in the Winchester's home. But it was still something that the family hesitated to do and Dean knew that it was yet another strike against him. The principal, Mr. Kalman, and Mrs. Bradley both came out to greet Dean's mom as she entered the building. They exchanged pleasantries and when they went to enter the inner office, Dean hopped down off the bench.

"Oh on, not you, dear." Mrs. Bradley interceded. "We need to speak with your mommy alone first."

Dean shot a pleading look to his mom. He really didn't want to get left behind out here. He had to be able to defend himself somehow. His mom gave him a skeptical look and he tried to convey his innocence back to her. After all, it wasn't like he had done anything too terrible.

His mom relented. "Why can't he come in with us?"

"Well typically, the adults discuss the situation and come up with a solution before informing the child of the outcome of the meeting."

"Did my son do something wrong?"

"No, nothing like that, Mrs. Winchester. I mean, there are minor behavioral issues, but they are just symptoms of the true reason I called you in."

His mom cocked her head to the side in an almost Cas-like way. "Then if he's not in trouble, I would prefer to have him with me. I promise he'll behave himself." She stared right at him as she said the last part.

Mr. Kalman nodded. "Since this will directly affect the young man in question, and I would very much like to hear what he has to say, I believe that we can make an exception in this case."

Dean gave them all a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Once in the office, he sat down in a chair next to his mom and across the desk from the principal. His teacher was standing off to the side.

"We apologize for calling you in here in the middle of the day, but the situation is important. I'll let Mrs. Bradley explain."

"Mrs. Winchester, your son has shown himself to be an excellent student in my class. He finishes his assignments correctly and very quickly. He does show minor behavior problems such as fidgeting, not interacting with other students, seemingly not paying attention in class, and consistent use of bad language."

"Bad language?" His mom gave him a look.

"Yeah, words like 'dumb', 'stupid', 'ugly', and today he used the word 'freak'."

Dean almost laughed as his mother tried to hide the relief from her expression. He knew she'd been expecting to hear that much worse had come from his mouth. She'd warned him not to teach the other students his colorful vocabulary.

"I'll talk to him about it when we get home."

"I'd appreciate it." Mrs. Bradley responded. "Now, I've been keeping an eye on him since the beginning of the year to try and determine where these issues may have come from. Problems at home, learning disabilities, and many other factors contribute to these sorts of behavior disorders. But today, I think I got my answer."

_Doubt it._ Dean thought.

"What happened?" His mom asked.

"Your son was writing this during class." The teacher handed the worksheet over.

Dean watched his mom's face as she read his short sentences.

**Questions:**

**Will Hell gate still open?**

**Can someone else break first seal?**

**Does either side have plan B?**

**Plan:**

**Get rid of all main demons.**

**Stay protected.**

**Find out wh**

His mom closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She was obviously trying to figure out how to explain why her five year old was writing battle plans against demons. She was given a little extra time to think up an excuse when Mrs. Bradley started talking again.

"Now, overlooking the subject matter for the moment, which I _do_ have to say that Dean is much too young to be watching Halloween horror movies, you're son is far more advanced than any other child in the class. This completely explains his behavior. Dean is bored. Kindergarten just isn't keeping him intellectually stimulated. We are learning the alphabet and letter sounds and your son can already read and write. Did you know that he could do this?"

"Yeah. Dean has always been very intelligent."

"And you didn't mention it in his kindergarten interview?"

Dean's mom shrugged. "It never came up."

Mrs. Bradley let out a groan. "I push and push for the school system to put more emphasis on the children's educational needs and it never happens. We get the regular children side by side with those who barely know their own names and really need an extra year in preschool before starting here. And then we get kids like your Dean. He's sitting through class everyday, learning nothing, and completely bored. And it's causing him to act out and get into trouble. Do you know if he knows his numbers and any addition and subtraction as well?"

"Dean?" His mom prompted.

"Yes ma'am, I know some of it."

The teacher nodded. "I thought as much. What I would like to do, with your permission, is to have Dean tested. Now, kindergarten is a mandatory grade and emotionally, Dean wouldn't be ready for first grade anyway. But if he tests high enough, and I believe he will, I can bring first grade assignments into the class for him to complete while the other students are doing their work. This should challenge him and hopefully help solve his minor behavioral issues. And, if he scores high enough on his assignments and passes an end of the year test, he will be eligible to skip first grade and start in second grade next year."

Him and his mom exchanged looks. He'd called attention to himself in a way that he wasn't supposed to have, but it was turning out far better than it could've.

"I'll give permission to go ahead with the testing and we'll take it from there." His mother replied, placing an arm around Dean. He looked up at her and sent her an apologetic look. He really had tried not to cause these kinds of problems.

"Very good. We can set up the testing for tomorrow afternoon. You can bring Dean home if you want, since after this morning's events it's unlikely that he'll be able to focus much for the rest of the day." Then Mrs. Bradley turned her attention to Dean. "Now Dean, the results of the test will be in by the end of the week, so any changes in your class-work won't start until next week. But, I expect you to still try to be on your best behavior until then. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And I know that Halloween is coming up, and you've obviously seen some grown-up movies, but those are not appropriate topics for school. There will be no more writing about it, no talking about it, and your costume for the party will meet the school's standards. Understood?"

"Yes, Mrs. Bradley. I'm sorry to cause problems today. I know I shouldn't write that stuff, but my dad was watching the movie and I couldn't sleep, so I snuck out to the living room and watched it too."

The teacher smiled. "There's a reason parents watch those kinds of movies after you're in bed, young man. It's because you are too young to be watching them."

"I know that now." Dean shrugged.

"I guess we'll have to be a bit more careful." His mom admitted.

"It's hard to deal with gifted children." Mrs. Bradley warned. "They are known to be very sneaky and sometimes try to act more grown up than they actually are."

"That's Dean." His mom agreed.

Dean rolled his eyes.

After everyone shook hands and exchanged goodbyes, Dean left with his mom. The meeting had turned out better than he had hoped. Now he just had to go home and hope that he survived the lectures that he'd receive there.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** __Okay, there was supposed to be action in this chapter, but the part you just read was only supposed to be less that half as long as it turned out to be. But __I hope you all enjoyed anyway. And to make up for the lack of action here, next chapter will be full of it... and will also probably get hellhounds sent to my door again... Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. thanks. _


	49. A Hellish Encounter

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone, I'm back a day early... hope you don't mind. I'm giving Dean a break from school and sending him on a hunt now. And I just wanted to thank angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, nourss, if-llamas-could-fly, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, Gustin azza, numb3rs mystery, liebedero, Mysterious Prophetess, LilyBolt, Invader Kiwi, FireChildSlytherin5, Nyx Ro, elfinblue, roy23, Dark Knight Warrior, savannaharaiza5, cathernatual812, EllyKayWasHere, Eliza Ghost, celestialstarynight, guest, Mizunou, BranchSuper, Jasper6509, Wolfa Moon, AlElizabeth, Anewtah, Silvermoon of Forestclan, jazzy2may, Wunjo, RoseDragon666, and samiam13 for their awesome reviews. Oh, and PLEASE leave all hellhounds on their leashes until the end of the chapter. Thanks..._

**Chapter Forty-Nine: A Hellish Encounter **

The sounds around them were almost deafening but John resisted the urge to clamp both hands over his ears. He needed to keep his weight off of the small body under him or he would cause further damage to his already injured son. So, he instead just tried to concentrate on remaining on his elbows and knees and sheltering Dean from the objects being hurled around the room. All the while he was cursing his alternate timeline self. The notes in the journal had made it sound like a poltergeist hunt, and just two days before Halloween, but John never would've gotten his family involved if his other self had bothered to correct the notes afterwards and state that it had in fact been a _demon_ and not a vengeful apparition. So, was killing your alternate self considered to be suicide or homicide?

They'd taken every precaution against the demons entering their property and never let Dean go anywhere without Cas following him. Ever since May second, they'd been able to keep the hellspawn away from their eldest son, and now, thanks to bad intel, here they were, delivering the boy right into the demons' hands. And since they were expecting poltergeist, they hadn't come prepared for a demon battle. Worst yet, Bobby was on a hunt of his own so Cas had dropped them off at this house and went back to watch over Sam. The angel wasn't due back to pick them up for at least another two hours.

Something heavy, possibly a desk, crashed into the wall and John felt wooden debris rain down on him. Then the room went completely still. This demon seemed to like theatrics. He had shut all the doors, threw the Winchesters around a bit, and then completely trashed the room. Why he was here in the first place, terrorizing the family that lived here, John had yet to figure out, but at the moment that was not important. Getting Dean out of here in one piece was his only goal.

"Well, well, well. So this is the now-infamous Winchester family. I'm not impressed. Can't quite figure out what's so special about two inept hunters and their little brat."

John didn't say a word. He was too busy trying to figure out their next move. Mary was across the room, pinned down under what was left of the far wall. He could see her trying to shift the ruble off of her body without drawing attention to herself. John would need her to perform the exorcism if it came to that, since he hadn't gotten around to memorizing it yet. He hoped she still remembered one after all these years. Dean, who knew the rituals forwards and back, was out cold and wouldn't be able to help them unless he woke up soon. Which John prayed he would. He'd only gotten a brief glimpse at his son's head wound before he'd thrown himself over the small body to protect it from the flying objects in the room, but the amount of blood he'd seen had scared him.

Without warning, an invisible force ripped the father up and off of his child and threw him across the room. John rolled as he hit the floor to avoid any serious injury. His ankle twisted and his already damaged ribs protested the rough treatment but he figured that he'd gotten off lucky. The hunter stood up and turned to face the demon possessed man that seemed intent on harming his family.

"Why are you doing this?"

"There's a big reward for capture of the Winchesters. Especially that one." The blonde haired man looked down at Dean.

"What? A pat on the head and a dog biscuit? Maybe a belly rub?" John knew that he was channeling his son with his remarks, but he had to keep the demon distracted. Mary was almost free. Maybe she could get into the other room and lay a trap for the demon if only John could keep the creature from noticing her movements.

"Demons all the way up at the top are interested in your son, and _I_ am going to be the one to bring him in. That will give me status far beyond my years."

"So, you get a corner office in Hell. I'm so impressed. Really."

"You think _you_ can mock _me_? You are nothing."

John chuckled. "You know, the last demon that told me that ended up with the demon killing knife cutting into his flesh. And did I mention that the demon in question was none other than Alastair himself?"

The demon seemed a bit unnerved. "You don't have that weapon."

"You sure about that?"

"If you had that or your precious colt, you'd have used it already." The demon insisted. "But you can prove me wrong if you want."

John tried to move forwards as the possessed man walked towards Dean, but was thrown back into the wall. He was unable to do anything as the demon reached down and touched the blood that covered the right side of the boy's face. He felt as though he'd throw up when the demon then licked the sticky red substance off of its finger.

"Delicious. It's no wonder Alastair wants this one. Little kids taste so good."

"Leave him alone you sick bastard." John growled out.

The demon laughed. It was a terrible sound. "And what are you going to do to stop me, John? Yell empty threats? You see, there is nothing you can do. And if you're waiting for the last member of your party to show up and rescue you, don't count on it. I know he transported you here somehow and that he'll most likely be back. By that time, you and the missus will be dead and I'll be ready for him. I'll slit his throat and drag your boy to Alastair."

"I won't let you."

"Did you miss the part of the story where you're going to be too dead to stop me?"

"No, just ignored it as irrelevant."

The demon smirked and walked over to him. John tried not to look relieved that the monster was now away from Dean. "You sure talk tough for a mere human."

"Well, from what I understand, you're less than human." John shot back. "You're a soul that was mangled into the pathetic mess that you now are. You can't even exist up here without inhabiting one of us 'mere humans'."

The demon snarled at him. "Shut up!" It used its powers to press John up into the wall with almost bone crunching force. The hunter let out a small groan. "I am far stronger than you! See!"

"Yeah, you know a few parlor tricks. Not impressed." John gasped out.

The pressure increased. John both felt and heard at least one of his ribs snap and he let out a cry.

"Impressed yet?" The demon asked.

"Nope."

The demon released its hold on him and John crumpled to the floor. He coughed a bit and was dismayed to see a small amount of blood splatter onto the ground. He hoped that it was from biting the inside of his mouth and not from his rib puncturing a lung, but as his breath refused to come out in any way but in small gasps, he figured that he'd be visiting the ER if he made it out of here alive.

"What will it take to impress you?" The demon leaned over him. "Maybe if I reach in your mouth and pull your heart out of your body through your throat? Or if I cut off your limbs one at a time until you bleed out? What do you think? Do either of those sound impressive enough to the great and powerful John Winchester?"

"No!"

Both John and the demon were startled by the childish cry. They turned to see Dean lying on the ground, still unconscious, but thrashing about amongst the debris with a look of pure terror on his young face.

"Well, looks like your son answered for you." The demon laughed. "And without even being awake." It approached Dean and knelt down. "Awwww, is the little boy having a bad dream?"

"Leave him alone." John, now released from the demon's hold, ran at the monster and pulled Dean's switchblade knife from his pocket. He'd taken the weapon earlier, just in case. But he didn't get close enough to use it before the demon flung him back into the wall. The hunter lay, stunned and injured, on the ground.

John watched helplessly as the demon shook Dean violently. "Hey brat, wakey wakey."

Dean, much to his father's surprise, sat straight up with a gasp. John had figured that he would be out for quite a while more and when he'd seen the boy thrashing about, he'd realized that he was trapped once more in his memories of Hell. The hunter had assumed that they'd be unable to wake him until Cas arrived, but maybe when the demon had shaken him, it had caused the boy pain and snapped him out of his nightmare. In any event, Dean was now looking around the room with his left eye wide open and a wild look on his face. His right eye was swollen shut and hidden under a mask of red. The boy's head whipped around again and then he let out a heart wrenching cry. His whole body was tense and while he was looking everywhere, it was as though he was seeing nothing. John suddenly realized that while Dean was physically awake, his mind had not come back from Hell.

The small, injured child leapt to his feet, barely able to stand but still he assumed a fighting stance. The demon in front of him laughed.

"Oh, tough little kid is going to take on a demon all by himself."

"Dean?"

John looked over to see Mary standing in the doorway to the room. He'd lost track of her in the last few minutes as he'd purposefully kept his attention off of her in the hopes that the demon would forget about her. He hoped that she'd gotten a trap set up for the possessed man. But when his wife went to step into the room, John shook his head at her. The hunter had no clue what was about to happen but the sick feeling in his stomach told him that it wasn't going to be good.

When the demon had spoken, it had captured Dean's attention. The child turned his damaged and bloody face to the creature and stared right at it. For the first time since waking up, the boy seemed to actually be seeing something. And the look on his face was terrifying. Even the demon seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"Stand down, boy. You'll never be able to take me by yourself."

Dean didn't respond at first, but reached down, never taking his eye off of the demon in front of him, and snatched up a piece of broken wood and held it in front of him. His arm was trembling but his jaw was clenched and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was ready for the fight.

"So, Alastair's too busy to guard me himself today? Big mistake." The voice that came out of Dean's mouth was low and gravely, not at all like the voice John was used to hearing from his five year old son. It barely sounded human.

The demon actually took a step away from the boy and seemed so disconcerted that it didn't even think to use its powers against the child. Dean, however, didn't show any hesitation. The boy launched himself at the demon and plowed right into it. Caught off guard, the demon stepped backwards, stumbled, and fell, landing with Dean on its chest. The tiny hunter was on it in an instant, slashing with his makeshift wooden weapon. The broken piece of some sort of furniture cut into the demon's face, spraying blood all over the place. Dean fought with a ferocity and rage that was horrifying and had John rooted to the spot in complete and utter shock. Not that he was completely sure what he would do if he could find the will to move. The demon had to be stopped, sure, but doing it like this seemed… wrong. He looked over at Mary and saw all of his thoughts mirrored in her eyes. Reluctantly, he turned his gaze back to Dean.

The demon was screeching and was throwing things all over using its powers but it could no longer see since its face was a bloody ruined mess. John could assume that shock was the only reason that it had yet to flee its host. But that changed as soon as Mary began reciting what could only be an exorcism in Latin. With a scream, black smoke rushed out of the man's mouth and left the room. The now empty body fell to the floor, quite dead. But still, Dean kept up his crazed attack.

"Dean!" John yelled. "Dean, stop. It's over."

Dean paused his cutting, breathing heavy, sobbing breaths. His entire body was trembling now as blood continued to pour down his face from his head wound. The boy looked down at the body he was sitting on and, apparently placated by what he saw, slowly got to his feet. Dean looked around the room, again with that strange far away look. John wondered what his son was actually seeing because there was no doubt in his mind that Dean was still not really here. The child didn't seem to be focused on anything.

"Dean." John kept his voice soft and calm. "Dean, it's me, your dad. You're okay, now."

Dean laughed. It wasn't a laugh like John had ever heard come from Dean. Not his happy laugh, nor his sarcastic one, but a scary, hopeless, and bitter one. "Dad again. Right. Try being a bit more original next time, asshole." Again he spoke in that awful, barely human voice.

"Son, please."

"I'm not your son! Your kind killed my family! You took everything from me!"

"Dean…"

"Shut up!" Dean screeched. "I won't break! The answer is no! No! No! No!" Dean, still holding the makeshift weapon was now grabbing at his head and was shaking it back and forth as if in denial about something. Tears were streaming down his bloody face. "No! No! No! No!"

When the boy started to pound his tiny fists against his already damaged skull, John had to try and snap him out of it before he hurt himself further. "Dean! Please son, please stop this. We love you, Dean. Please."

"No! You're not him! Stop saying you are! Leave me alone!" With that cry, and no other warning, Dean ran and launched himself at his father.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Will begging for my life help at this point? Or should I spend this time surrounding myself with rock salt? Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. Up next... Yeah, like I'm gonna give anything away at this point..._


	50. Post Traumatic Hell Disorder

_**Author's Note:** Hi Everyone! And here it is: Chapter Fifty! Who thought I'd make it this far? Obviously you guys did because your support has been awesome... you know, when you're not sending hellhounds after me. On that note, I want to thank nourss, FireChildSlytherin5, angelofheaven001, VGisselleH, Dazja, Hasmik Aharonyan, liebedero, Gustin azza, EllyKayWasHere, LilyBolt, Invader Kiwi, numb3rs mystery, Nyx Ro, savannaharaiza5, RoseDragon666, tealpaperclip27, deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover, FireAngel5683, Eliza Ghost, Mysterious Prophetess, BranchSuper, celestialstarynight, Madi Holmes, Pizzapig, Silvermoon of Forestclan, guest, spnfan, roy23, Vanya Starwind, and Bing Bing 9312 for their wonderful reviews. By the way, if Post Traumatic Hell Disorder (PTHD) isn't a real condition... it should be..._

**Chapter Fifty: Post Traumatic Hell Disorder**

Something was wrong. Castiel didn't know how he knew it, but he knew that something had gone horribly wrong and that Dean needed his help. But he couldn't bring Sam with him if there was going to be danger and he couldn't leave the toddler behind. The Winchester house was protected from demons, but with their luck, a kidnapper would pick tonight to break in and steal the child while Castiel was away. On the other hand, the angel was certain that Dean needed him, and Castiel would not let his friend down.

The angel appeared in Sam's room and touched the child on the head to assure that he would not wake. Then he picked up the sleeping bundle and thought about his destination. A second later, he was standing on the doorstep of the house he wanted to be at. Castiel raised his hand and knocked loudly. He waited but a few seconds and repeated the action.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming. Keep your shirt on."

Castiel cocked his head to the side. He wondered why exactly the woman thought he was going to take his shirt off if she didn't open her door right away. The porch light flicked on and Castiel heard the locks click as they released. Then the door swung open and he was greeted by a sleepy and rather irate looking Missouri dressed in purple silk pajamas and a matching robe.

"I need your help." Castiel stated.

"Well, I'm assuming you weren't here to proposition me, being an angel and all. What do you need?"

"Dean needs my help, but I can't go to him unless someone comes back to the Winchesters' house to watch Sam."

"So now I'm a babysitter?"

"Almost six months ago you asked the family if there was anything you could do to assist them. I am giving you an assignment now."

"Well, don't I feel special."

"Please, Dean needs help. I need to go to him now."

"Let me get dressed." Missouri requested.

"No." Castiel shook his head. "There isn't time. Besides, I doubt Sam will care what you are dressed in."

Missouri smiled. "I suppose your right."

Castiel took her hand and transported her back to the house. As soon as they appeared in Sam's room, he handed the toddler to her and then left the Winchesters' home once more.

When the angel appeared in the house where he had left the Winchesters earlier that night, he froze in shock. It didn't look like the aftermath of a battle with a poltergeist, but rather a warzone. A body lay among piles of rubble, debris, and broken furniture. The man's face had been torn to shreds, blood covered everything and small, red footprints led away from the carnage.

Castiel was about to call out for Dean when he heard sounds coming from down the hall. A woman, most likely Mary, was crying, something was slamming repeatedly against a door or a wall, and there was another sound; screaming and howling that was almost inhuman. Castiel ran towards the commotion.

Near the end of the hall, John was leaning against a door, holding it shut as Mary stood off to the side, hands over her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Something was trying to get out of the room and the hunter was doing his best to not allow that to happen.

"What is going on?" Castiel demanded. "And where is Dean?"

"I… I had to lock him in the bathroom." John gasped out. His voice sounded shaky and weak. Castiel noticed that the man was injured. He was hunched over and clutching his ribs with one arm protectively, blood was leaking from the corner of his mouth and there were small, but deep finger nail marks on his arms.

"Dean is in there? Those noises… that is Dean?" Castiel had a hard time believing that any human could make the sounds that were coming from behind the door, let alone a five year old child.

"It… it's not Dean." Mary sobbed out.

"There's something very wrong with him." John explained. "He was knocked out and was dreaming and when the demon woke him up…"

"A demon?" Too late, Castiel realized that he had smelled sulfur upon entering the house.

"Yeah, but it's gone now. Dean, he… he woke up but he's not right. He… he's not here. Not really. He slaughtered the demon and attacked me and I got him locked in the bathroom. I tried not to hurt him but… oh god, what are we going to do?"

"Stay calm." Castiel ordered.

The angel walked over to the bathroom door and placed his hand against the wood. He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. He couldn't get inside Dean's head when the hunter was awake, but if what John said was true, then Dean wasn't really awake. So maybe this would work and he could see what was wrong with his friend. Castiel was suddenly hit with a rush of images and feelings that he wished he could forget. And more importantly, he wished that Dean could forget them.

Dean was locked in a room, but he was not seeing a small bathroom in a suburban home. To Dean, he was trapped in a dark room where the walls were splattered with blood and gore and the floor was burning embers. The boy had wrecked the room trying to make his escape, and was holding what he thought was some sort of weapon but was just the towel rack that had once hung on the wall. Dean was sobbing, and screaming at the same time, filled with unimaginable pain, grief and anguish. Castiel touched his mind briefly and then pulled back.

"You're right. Dean's mind is not here. He fully believes that he is still in Hell. If I am not mistaken, judging by the condition of his mind and soul, at the moment he believes that he's been there for almost thirty years."

"Thirty years?" Mary gasped.

"Yes." Castiel nodded. "He is close to breaking. And he now believes that he has a chance to escape and that you are demons preventing that escape."

"But souls can't escape Hell." John protested.

"Usually not." The angel agreed. "Even demons have difficulty getting out unless summoned or sent out by a high ranking demon. But, there have been cases of souls slipping out of where they are being held if they are kept in cells. You have to understand the sheer number of human souls kept in Hell. They are not looked after all the time, so it would be possible. However, they would just wander around forever in the pit until recaptured by demons unless they happened upon an open hellgate, which is not terribly likely. But that was not the case with your son. He was not left alone. Ever. They could take no chance of his escape. Also, they wanted him broken, so he was tortured and tormented constantly, unlike any other soul down there. The opportunity he now believes he has is something he was never given and he will not stand down for anything."

"What do we do?" John asked.

"I may be able to push back the memories of Hell if I can lay my hand on him, but that would mean letting him out. So, you will have to open the door and I want you both to step back. No matter what happens, do not get involved until he starts to come back to himself. Unless he recognizes you, he will not hesitate to kill you."

Both of Dean's parents nodded, fear and sorrow etched in their faces. Castiel had a feeling that this incident was going to harm the family's interactions for a while to come, but that was not something that he could think about at the moment. For now, he had to focus on Dean.

"Let him out." Castiel instructed as he stepped to the side.

As soon as the door was opened, a small, blood coated blur came flying out of the bathroom. Castiel's right arm shot out and grabbed the boy across his chest. But before he could lay his other hand on Dean's head, the small hunter twisted in his arms and started clawing at his face. The angel felt the child's tiny finger nails breaking his skin, but he ignored it as he tried to wrestle his friend without harming him. Dean was making loud distressed noises that were nowhere near human sounding as he fought for all he was worth. Castiel understood what he was doing. Dean knew that he was so very close to breaking and felt that this was his last chance to save himself and he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way. With a quick shove, the boy somehow wrenched himself away from Castiel and fell backwards, breathing heavily. The angel saw how severely injured his friend was and wondered how he was even still conscious at this point. But he was not only still up but Dean was still fighting. The boy held up the towel bar and swung it as hard as he could. The angel noticed too late and took the full impact of the metal bar on left side of his head. Castiel felt the skin split and the bone crack with the force of the blow and wondered how a small, injured child had so much strength. The fear and desperation caused by his mental state was pushing the small hunter far past his body's normal limits. But when Dean tried to swing it a second time, Castiel caught the weapon and pulled it from his hands, causing the child to stumble and fall. Dean went down to his hands and knees with a wordless cry.

Castiel watched as Dean tried to get to his feet and failed. With a choking sob, the boy tried to crawl away. He made it into the living room before the angel reached out and grabbed him.

"No!" Dean shrieked.

Before he could renew his efforts to fight, Castiel placed his right hand on the boy's forehead. He was hit with a rush of images even more horrifying than what he'd seen earlier. It took everything he had not to let go of Dean and step back to escape the visions he was bombarded with. But he had to help Dean before it was too late. Every moment his friend spent back in Hell was tearing the boy's sanity apart and as strong as Dean was, there was only so much he'd be able to take.

So Castiel took a hold of the Hell memories that his friend was trapped in and started to push at them. He started with the images of demons, hoping that it would allow Dean to recognize him, John, and Mary for who they really were. Dean was trying to fight him and get away still, but Castiel began to speak to him in a calm and soothing voice.

"It's alright, Dean. You are no longer in Hell. I pulled you out long ago. You're safe now, Dean. It's alright."

"No!" Dean gasped out, but it no longer sounded as defiant. It was more like he was unsure whether or not to believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, Dean. You're safe."

Dean looked up at him and for the first time since Castiel arrived, the boy was actually seeing him. "C… Cas?"

"Yes, Dean. It's me."

The boy looked around the room and shuddered. "Why… why am I in Hell again?"

"You're not. It's not real, Dean. Try to stay calm. I'll help you." Castiel kept pushing and watched as slowly Hell began to seep away from the room.

After a few minutes, Dean was finally able to see the room for what it really was. The angel had shifted them so that the boy was sitting in his lap and he held the trembling child tightly. Castiel was aware that John and Mary were both watching from the hall but neither had made any move to approach them. Dean looked around the room with his one functioning eye and when his gaze fell upon the mutilated body in the center, he froze. Castiel could see him putting together what had happened from what he knew and what he'd thought he'd experienced.

"Did… did I…"

"He was possessed." Castiel answered.

"But I…"

"Yes."

Dean nodded, but then his trembling increased and he doubled over and threw up on the floor. Castiel held him so that he wouldn't collapse into it. When he seemed to have a little bit more control again, the traumatized hunter continued searching the room. When he saw his parents, his eye filled with tears. Castiel knew that he realized that he'd attacked them as well. The angel turned to face them, hoping that they'd come over to reassure Dean, but the boy's parents seemed to be in shock. They stood staring at him with that mix of fear and sadness still painted on their faces. Dean saw it too and looked away. He put his head down on Castiel's chest and closed his eyes.

"No, Dean. You can't go to sleep. I know that you are tired and injured but if you fall asleep now, you will find yourself right back in Hell."

That was enough to jar Dean back out of his drowsy state. "Okay, I'm awake."

"I'll bring you all to a hospital to get your injuries cared for. When we get home, I'll help you get some dreamless rest."

Dean nodded carefully. "Sounds good." His voice sounded hollow.

Castiel looked back to John. "Which hospital shall I bring you to?"

"Probably one close to home. We don't want to be seen anywhere near this area."

Mary looked to her husband. "What are we going to tell them about our injuries?"

John looked them all over for a moment. "Most of the injuries can be explained by impact, and it's been an unseasonable warm weekend, so I think the best cover story would be that we went camping and got injured in a hiking accident."

Castiel was pleased to see that they were coming out of their shock enough to be able to think. He stood up, still holding Dean in his arms. He was unsure of what injuries his friend might have, and didn't want to put him down. The angel was also pretty sure that the boy could use the comfort after reliving some of his most horrific Hell memories.

"After I drop you all off at the hospital, I will return here and clean up. Then I'll pick you up and bring you home."

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked.

Count on Dean to ask about his brother no matter what. "Missouri is watching him at the house. He'll be fine until we get back."

Dean nodded against his chest. His trembling hadn't gotten any better and Castiel wondered if it was from mental or physical shock. Perhaps it was a combination of both. John and Mary walked over to them and Castiel took their hands with his free hand. With but a thought they were outside the hospital's emergency room.

"I cannot go in with you." Castiel informed them. He was bleeding from the head wound that Dean had given him with the towel bar and had small finger nail marks all down his face but they were already healing. Going into the ER like that would probably cause an unnecessary (and hard to explain) scene. "One of you has to take Dean."

"I can walk." Dean offered weakly.

Castiel hoped that his parents wouldn't be so frightened of their own son that they would take him up on that offer. It wasn't that he didn't understand their feelings, but he could tell that Dean sensed their fear as well and was hurt by it.

"I'll take him." Mary offered, a bit hesitantly. "John shouldn't be carrying anything until we know how bad his ribs are. I just hurt my left wrist and the back of my head. But I think I can still carry him."

But before she could reach for him, Dean squirmed out of Castiel's arms and dropped down to the ground. His legs gave out and he ended up sprawled on the pavement. The boy scrambled to his feet.

"It's okay, I got it. You don't gotta touch me."

There was an awkward silence that was interrupted when the doors to the emergency room opened. The family turned as a doctor walked out holding a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. He froze as he took in the small group.

"Can I help you?"

John stepped forwards. "We were hiking and the trail was a bit too steep. The rocks slid out from under us. My son hit his head and lost consciousness for a while. He's bleeding badly. I broke some ribs and possibly punctured a lung."

The doctor stared at John for a second and then crammed the cigarette and lighter back into his pocket. "Stay there and don't move. I'll get a couple stretchers out here for you and your son." With that, he turned and ran back inside.

Castiel crouched down in front of Dean. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

The boy nodded. "Okay, Cas." He winced as he reached out and lightly traced the fingernail marks he'd left on the angel's face. "Sorry."

"It was not your fault, Dean." Castiel informed him, not only for Dean's benefit but for his parents' as well. Then, the angel vanished.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Please don't kill me... I got Cas to help Dean, didn't I? Anyway, please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks so much._


	51. What Only My Eyes See

_**Author's Note: **Hi guys! Third update this week! I know you'd all love me for it if I hadn't put Dean through so much Hell (literally) in the last couple of chapters. I want to thank VGiselleH, Pizzapig, angelofheaven001, FireChildSlytherin5, liebedero, Gustin azza, Hasmik Aharonyan, numb3rs mystery, if-llamas-could-fly, elfinblue, Mysterious Prophetess, Nyx Ro, Lily Bolt, guest, celestialstarynight, savannaharaiza5, BranchSuper, FireAngel5683, AlElizabeth, guest, Jasper6509, Eliza Ghost, zhen123, EllyKayWasHere, RoseDragon666, The Best Kind Of Mad, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Lady No Da 201, Vampy, and Vanya Starwind for their awesome reviews. _

**Chapter Fifty-One: What Only My Eyes See**

Dean limped into class with his head down and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He felt like crap and really didn't want to be here today but it was better than spending another awkward day at home. The previous day had been almost unbearable and when his mom had offered to call him out of school today, he'd quickly declined. His dad wasn't going in to work today, the doctor had ordered him to take a week of rest, and Dean had almost panicked at the thought of spending yet another day in the same house as his parents. They were scared of him. With good reason, sure, but that didn't make it any easier for Dean to handle.

So, here he was, making his way into the kindergarten class with his right ankle wrapped up tightly. It had been badly sprained during the demon fight. His face was a complete mess. His right eye was still swollen almost completely shut and he had a line of stitches running from his hairline down past his eye and coming to a stop just below his cheekbone. The doctor had told his parents that there was a chance that it could leave a scar. Dean couldn't care less. So, he'd started picking up scars a bit earlier this time around. Big freakin' deal. What he did worry about was the fact that his parents now hated him.

"Dean! What happened?"

The boy looked up to see Mrs. Bradley hurrying over to him. Ever since he'd taken, and aced, the tests she'd had him do, the two of them had gotten along so much better. Once she'd been able to label him as a genius, she'd felt like she understood him better and since he got to sit by himself and do his own work rather than have to pretend to pay attention during class, he was no longer as annoyed by her. Sure, school was still boring, but he could deal.

Dean looked up at his teacher. "Hiking accident."

"You should've stayed home and rested."

"It looks worse than it is." Dean lied.

"I can tell that it hurts you." Mrs. Bradley countered. "You came in anyway because you didn't want to miss the Halloween party, didn't you?"

"Guilty." Dean responded, glad that she'd given him a convenient out.

"Why didn't you wear a costume?"

Dean thought quickly. "The mask hurt my face. And the rest of the costume looked stupid…" He winced at his use of one of the words she hated. "Uh, I mean, it didn't look good without the mask."

The teacher smiled and didn't scold him on his slip up. "Well, go take your seat. And if you need to rest at any point, just excuse yourself and go lay down on your mat." She gestured to where the kids took their naps.

"Thanks, ma'am." Dean responded. He knew that the other kids were watching him closely. He'd been the talk of the class ever since the day he'd been escorted to the office and now his injuries weren't helping.

Dean had almost made it to his chair when a kid dressed up in a dorky He-Man costume stepped in front of him. He knew it was Frank, even though the boy's face was hidden behind a plastic half-mask held on by an elastic strap.

Frank snickered. "What are you supposed to be, Deanie? Frankenstein?"

"Frankenstein was the scientist."

"What?"

"I'm assuming you were trying to make some lame joke about the fact that I have stitches in my head and face, so you were comparing me to the monster that Dr. Frankenstein created."

"Yeah well, that's what you look like." Frank shot back.

Dean looked at the other boy's costume. He was wearing a weird plastic jumpsuit thing with drawn-on muscles and the plastic half mask with long blonde hair. "And what are you supposed to be? Your mother?"

Frank pulled his arm back to punch Dean and the young hunter got ready to easily catch the other boy's fist when he noticed that Mrs. Bradley heading their way. So, using all the control he could muster, Dean fought his instincts and let Frank's not-very-hard punch land square on his already injured face as he rolled with the blow.

"Frank!" The teacher shouted.

The other boy jumped. "Mrs. Bradley, he…"

"What do you think you're doing? You do not hit another student! Ever! Especially not a student who is already hurt. Now, you grab your bag and go with Ms. Irving down to the principal's office!"

"But Dean said…"

"I don't want to hear it. I saw you stand in his way. Whatever happened here, _you_ are the one who started it and _you_ are the one who punched Dean." Once Frank had walked off, the teacher turned her attention to Dean, who was rubbing at his sore face. "Are you okay, Dean?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you need to go see the nurse?"

"No, ma'am."

"Alright. You may take your seat."

Dean sat down and closed his eyes. Maybe he should've stayed home. Sure he was feared and possibly hated back at his house, but he was pretty sure that no one was going to physically harm him there. With a sigh, the young hunter put his aching head down on his desk, certain that he wouldn't get in trouble for it today. He tried hard to block out any depressing thoughts. He'd come to school to try and escape from all that, at least for a little while. And when he got home, he'd go up to his room and hide out there all alone for most of the rest of the day. But then would come dinner time and he'd be forced to sit at the dining room table and see the residual fear in his parent's eyes whenever they looked at him and the fading fingernail marks he'd left on his father's arms. Luckily, he'd somehow avoided doing any real damage to either of his parents, but he knew that in his less than sane state, he'd been capable of killing them just as brutally as he had that demon possessed man. Nope, not thinking about that.

He was jarred from his thoughts by the crackling sound of the speakers as the morning announcements came on. The secretary let them all know that today was October thirty-first, and that the Halloween parade around the school would take place just before lunch. Hot lunch today was fish sticks, French fries, and corn. The alternate meal was baked ziti and Italian bread. Friday's third grade class trip was being post-poned due to rain. Finally, when all the announcements were over, the students were instructed to stand for the pledge of allegiance. Dean got to his feet and placed his right hand over his heart.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. And to the republic for which it stands; one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." Dean repeated it by heart, while the other kids struggled with the words, since they were still learning it. He'd had many years of repeating the words over and over already, so it took no effort to say.

But as he was talking, the boy happened to look over at Mrs. Bradley who smiled back at him as her eyes flashed pure black. Dean jumped, as his own eyes widened. The teacher looked at him with a concerned look that did not coincide with the fact that she had to be possessed. But then blood began to run down the chalkboard and Dean realized what was happening. Mrs. Bradley wasn't possessed. He was hallucinating. Again.

It had been happening since he'd been brought into the ER that night, but Dean refused to mention it to his parents. No need to scare them any further than they were already. They didn't need to be walking around thinking that he could snap again at any given moment. Dean had thought about telling Cas, but was afraid that the angel might insist on informing his parents 'for his own good'. So, the small hunter just kept his mouth shut and learned how to tell what was real from what wasn't and how to deal with the crap that wasn't. It's not like this was the first time he'd had to deal with leftover Hell visions.

When the pledge was over, Dean sat back down and waited for the teacher to announce their lesson for the day. After that, he'd be dismissed to go to the desk in the back to work on his assignments. Dean heard a low growling noise behind him and tried his best to ignore it. There was nothing there. Animals weren't allowed in school. Besides, no one else was reacting, so it meant that only he was hearing anything. Of course, if it was a hellhound, then it would make sense that only he would hear it, wouldn't it? No. Because there was no hellhound.

"Okay class, today we'll be making pumpkin masks out of paper plates first. After that, we'll work on our letter of the week before the Halloween parade. Then we'll have lunch. Our party will be after lunch."

All the kids let out a cheer and clapped their hands. Dean tried hard not to groan. Paper plate masks. Awesome. Just what he wanted to spend his morning doing. With a sigh, the young hunter grabbed the white plate that was placed down in front of him. When the boxes of crayons were set out, Dean waited for all the other kids to help themselves before reaching out and snatching up a dark orange one. He tore the rest of the paper from it and turned it on its side, rubbing the wax object over the plate evenly. The boy was studiously ignoring the sounds of screaming in the background, knowing that it was all just hallucinations. This was by far the worse it had been since Cas had pushed the Hell memories back, and Dean figured it was because he felt a bit exposed now that he'd left the security of his well-protected home. But if he could just make it through today, maybe things would start to get better. Because there was no way he'd let it get worse. He wouldn't crack. He wouldn't.

Dean tossed the orange crayon back and grabbed a black one to draw the face. He barely paid any attention to what he was doing and was soon cutting out the shapes with a pair of dull safety scissors. He cut out a stem from green construction paper and glued it on and was about to fasten on the elastic string when he sensed someone standing behind him. He looked up and saw Mrs. Bradley standing there looking down at him.

"Dean, what did we talk about a few weeks ago? About things being appropriate for this class?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Your mask."

"I'm not wearing one." Dean was confused.

"The pumpkin mask you just made, Dean."

Dean looked back at the paper plate mask he'd just made and almost recoiled from it. The orange he'd used was dark, and he'd pushed down so hard on the crayon when he'd colored it in that it had come out looking almost blood red. The eyes were small slits as were the nose holes, but the mouth was a wide open maw filled with sharp pointed teeth. It was hideous.

"Sorry, I'll… I'll put it in my bag"

"Are you sure you're okay, Dean?"

"Not really." He answered truthfully. "But I will be."

"You sure you don't need to go home?"

He looked up into her once again pure black eyes. "I'm sure."

By the time lunch had rolled around, Dean felt as though he was getting used to Hell leaking into his kindergarten class. It was nothing like what he'd experienced that night, when he'd been convinced that he was back in the pit, but there was almost always just one or two small things just slightly out of place. Someone with the wrong colored eyes. Hellhounds growling and snarling. Chains with sharp hooks hanging from the ceiling. Blood dripping down the walls. The black board catching on fire. Screams ringing out from nowhere. Dean felt like his sanity was hanging on by a thread and it didn't help that his head was pounding and the cut on his face was burning. The boy bit into his fish stick and watched as blood dripped out onto his French fries, covering them like ketchup. He worked hard to swallow the food but his stomach was having none of it. Dean spit the mouthful of partially chewed processed fish into his napkin and placed it on his tray. He closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. When he opened them, everything looked like it should. But he didn't dare try to eat any more. It wasn't like he had much of an appetite anyway.

The Halloween party was uneventful. Kids ate cupcakes and cookies, got goodie bags, bobbed for apples, had a costume contest, did lame dances to equally lame songs, and listened to the teacher read a 'scary' story. When the final bell rang, Dean slowly got up and started to pack up his bag. He'd made it through the last half and hour or so with no hallucinations at all and was feeling like he was getting a handle on things.

But now his stomach was in knots again because he wasn't ready to go back home. The tension in his house was so thick it was unbearable and Dean didn't want to face it just yet. He was tempted to ask Cas to transport him somewhere to help him unwind a bit but he knew that that would cause his parent to worry and he couldn't do that to them. On the other hand, maybe they'd be relieved if their freak son disappeared for good. Dean prayed that that wasn't the case.

"If you don't feel any better tomorrow, do yourself a favor and stay home Dean." Mrs. Bradley recommended.

"I'll take that under advisement." Dean responded with a smirk.

She gave him an odd look, probably unused to sentences like that coming from five year olds, genius status or not.

Dean grabbed his backpack and walked out of the classroom. His ankle was still hurting him a bit, but he was coping even with the low pain threshold that came with this tiny body. Dean was glad that his parents had decided against taking Sammy out trick-or-treating tonight. They'd decided that he was too young to get much out of it and it was probably best to wait until the following year. He'd have gone along with them if they were going, but he was pleased that he'd be able to stay in that night. Maybe he'd just plead sickness tonight and spend the evening in bed. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

Dean turned his head to see a blonde girl just a hair taller than himself walking next to him. She was in his class and sat across the table and to the left of him.

Dean shrugged. "Just got hurt a little. I'll be fine, Liz."

Elizabeth smiled shyly at him. "You remember my name?"

"Sure. You remember mine, right?"

"Yeah. Well, Happy Halloween, Dean."

"Happy Halloween."

She smiled at him again and then hurried off to join the line of kids that were getting on bus 3-A. Dean continued on his way to the front of the school to where his mom would be waiting to pick him up. He kept his head down as he trudged down the hall, well aware of how cruel some of the other kids could be if they got a look at his injured face and not in the mood to put up with it.

When Dean stepped out into the school yard, he saw his mom standing amongst the crowd of parents that came to pick up their children. Older kids were allowed to go beyond the gates and get into the cars, but kindergarteners and first graders weren't able to leave school grounds without a parent or guardian present. Dean doubted that an invisible guardian angel would count.

The boy dragged his feet all the way over to his mother and stood there waiting for her to notice him rather than greeting her like he usually did. It only took a few seconds, since she was obviously keeping an eye out for him.

"Ready to go, Dean?"

Dean nodded.

She placed her hand on his backpack, after a brief hesitation that no one but Dean probably even detected, and led him over to her car. After the back door was opened, the small hunter tossed his pack onto the backseat and climbed in after it.

To say that the ride home was awkward would be the very definition of the word understatement. Neither mother or son made an attempt at conversation and Dean spent the entire trip staring out the window trying to ignore the over whelming emotions building up in him. Once they were away from the school, Cas appeared in the front seat like he did every day. Dean felt alone in the back, since Sammy must've stayed home with their dad that day.

When they got home, Dean let himself out of the car almost before his mom had completely stopped it. He ignored the growling hellhound that followed him to the front door and went straight to his room without even greeting his dad. The boy closed the door behind him threw himself down on his bed and sobbed out all of his grief and pain into his pillow.

After a while, when he had no more strength or energy left to cry, Dean rolled over and grabbed the book off of his nightstand and started to read. Funny that he'd be reading Stephan King's 'The Stand' to escape the horrors of his life, but not even that demented writer could imagine the crap that Dean had had to live through. The boy smiled as he thought about the stir it would cause if his kindergarten teacher knew what kind of stuff he read at home. Not exactly "See Spot Run".

The boy was aware when Cas entered his room. The angel had been an almost constant companion the last couple of days. Dean looked up as his friend approached the bed holding out an icepack in one hand.

"You mentioned that using this still felt good for your eye."

"Thanks, Cas." Dean sat up and went to take it, but the angel sat on the boy's pillow and gently guided his head back down. Then Cas placed the cold pack on his damaged face. Dean hissed as it touched his skin but then relaxed as the throbbing pain was numbed. The small hunter rolled his one good eye up to look at the angel. "You know, when I'm older, we are never telling anyone that I laid around with my head in your lap, got it?"

"Your secret is safe with me."

"Just so we're clear."

"Were you feeling well at school, Dean?"

Dean hesitated for a moment. He wanted to confide in his friend, but if Cas decided that his parents had to be told, then he'd be in trouble for sure. "Just tired and in pain."

"You seemed jumpy."

"Guess I'm not completely over what happened." Well, that was close enough to the truth.

Dean heard footsteps coming up the stairs and looked at the clock. It was dinnertime. He really didn't want to go down and sit at the table with his parents that were scared of him and would probably hate him forever for what he was. He looked up at Cas pleadingly.

"I'm sleeping." He whispered and glanced to the door. He caught Cas' confused look before he closed his eye.

Dean heard the footsteps stop and his door creaked open. The boy tried to keep his breathing controlled and even. After a minute, the door closed and the footsteps started up again. They walked away from the bedroom and back down the stairs. Dean opened his eye and looked at Cas.

"You don't wish to eat?" The angel questioned.

"Not hungry."

"You didn't eat your lunch."

"Would you eat those nasty fish sticks they serve at the school?" Dean countered.

"You need food, Dean."

"I'll go down after everyone's asleep and get something from the fridge."

Cas looked down at him with a look that told Dean that the angel knew exactly why Dean wasn't going down to eat right now. "Your parents would like to see you, Dean."

"'Course they would. Even with this," Dean gestured to the damage on his face. "I'm still really cute."

"You know what I mean."

Something in the angel's tone of voice penetrated Dean's defenses and made him drop his act. "They're scared of me, Cas."

"No. They're scared of what they saw you do."

"Same thing. Look, I… I don't want to talk about it right now, Cas. It's been a helluva day and I really do need some rest."

Cas looked like he'd push it for a moment but then he relented. "Alright Dean."

"Good."

Dean tossed his novel down on the nightstand and closed his eye, trying hard to block out the tortured screams and demonic laughter he heard echoing around his bedroom.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Uh... hope you all enjoyed... am I digging myself a deeper grave with every chapter I write lately? See, this is why I use all my non-writing time to build a panic room like Bobby's... Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	52. You and Me

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! My panic room now has an internet connection so I'm all set to continue to torment Dean! Why do I get the feeling that you are all watching your Supernatural DVDs and trying to find weaknesses in the panic rooms so that you can get to me? Oh well... By the way, I have to say that your death threats are getting more creative. On that note, I want to thank angelofheaven001, liebedero, The Steininator, nourss, numb3rs mystery, Dazja, FireAngel5683, Pizzapig, Silvermoon of Forestclan, VGiselleH, Invader Kiwi, Juvdelink25, Jasper6509, Gustin azza, LilyBolt, Irishred79, Nyx Ro, EllyKayWasHere, savannaharaiza5, zhen123, BranchSuper, if-llamas-could-fly, Hasmik Aharonyan, FireChildSlytherin5, AlElizabeth, Eliza Ghost, guest, RoseDragon666, Leooo, Web of Obsidian, Bing Bing 9312, guest, Mysterious Prophetess, and Vanya Starwind for their awesome reviews. You guys totally rock! _

**Chapter Fifty-Two: You and Me **

Sammy sat on the floor of his bedroom and tried very hard to fit a square block through a round hole. He knew that that wasn't where it was supposed to go, but that was where he wanted it to go and he figure that maybe with enough force he could make it work. So far, he had had no luck. Finally, Sammy took the blue square block and threw it down. He didn't really like this toy much anyway. Mama and Dada were always saying he should play with it but he didn't like it. Sammy pushed the cube toy away and got up. He walked over to his toy box to get a better toy but stopped. There was that sound he waited for all day. The front door. Dean was home!

The last two days Dean had come home, gone in his room and closed his door. That wasn't fair because Sammy wasn't tall enough to reach the doorknob to let himself in. And it made Sammy sad. Dean had never closed his door to keep Sammy out before. But now he did. And Dean didn't come to the table to eat anymore. Sammy saw Dean only one or two times in the last two days and when he did, he saw that Dean had very bad booboos. Mama had told Sammy to be careful with Dada because Dada had bad booboos but Dean looked like his booboos were even badder. And Dean was sad too. Sammy knew this because he heard Dean crying in his room. Sammy wanted Dean to be happy again because Dean was always happy and Dean was always making Sammy happy. But most of all, he just wanted to be with Dean. So, Sammy quickly got up and ran into Dean's bedroom before Dean got there.

He was excited to see Dean walk into the room, even if Dean was looking down at the floor and not at him. Dean threw his backpack down and kicked it as he closed his door. Sammy smiled and waved at Dean.

"Dee!"

Dean looked up and for a moment, Sammy thought that Dean looked scared. But Dean was never scared. "What're you doing in here, Sammy?"

"Dee!" Sammy pointed at Dean.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah." That was one of the things that Sammy liked best about Dean. He never pushed Sammy to talk like Mama and Dada did, but always seemed to know what Sammy meant.

"Guess I haven't been around much, huh? But it's not like anyone really wants to see me. 'Cept you, I guess. And I've also been resting a bit 'cause I feel like crap."

"Dee got booboo?"

"Yeah."

"S'mmy kiss?"

Dean smiled. Sammy smiled because Dean was smiling. "Sure kiddo." Dean walked over and got on his knees. Sammy leaned forwards and kissed Dean's face right on his bad booboo. Dean leaned back and the booboo was still there.

"Booboo." Sammy ran his fingers over the bad booboo.

"It feels better now." Dean told him and put his hand in Sammy's hair.

Sammy clapped his hands. "Yay!"

"Just what I was gonna say." Dean suddenly jumped up and spun around, making a small, scared sounding noise. Sammy grabbed onto Dean's leg because he knew that Dean was scared and if Dean was scared then something bad was happening and Dean would keep him safe. Dean raised his arm as if to stop something from hitting his face but Sammy couldn't see anything there. After a moment, Dean lowered his arm.

"Dee?"

Dean turned back around as soon as Sammy let go of his leg. Dean tried to smile, but he still looked scared. "Uh, you should go back to your room now, Sammy. I… uh, I got some homework stuff to do."

"Dee cared?"

"No. Nothing to be scared of Sammy. Everything's okay. It's just… you know…" Sammy saw tears coming to Dean's eye that wasn't all puffy and hurt. Then Dean turned and opened his door. He walked back over to Sammy. "Go on back to your room and play now, Sammy."

"Tay."

"Stay? You wanna stay?"

"Yeah."

"Nah, I'm no good to be around, Sammy."

Well, that didn't make sense. Dean was good. Dean was the goodest person Sammy ever met. "Dee good."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yeah!"

Tears ran down Dean's face as he got down on his knees and hugged Sammy. Sammy hugged him back, happy to be hugging Dean, but not sure why Dean was crying. Maybe his booboo was hurting again.

"Guess it's just like old times then. You and me against the world."

Sammy wasn't quite sure what Dean was talking about but he liked the 'you and me' part. He liked being with Dean. "Love Dee."

Dean looked down at Sammy and smiled, but he was still crying too. "Thanks, Sammy. At least someone still does."

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Mary stood in the hallway, holding a basket full of clean, folded laundry, unsure of what to do next. She'd come upstairs to put away Sammy's clothes and leave Dean's by his door for Cas to take in with him later. Yeah, she knew that she was being a complete coward. Dean closed his door, but never locked it, so she could easily let herself in to put away his laundry as well. She told herself that she was respecting his privacy, but in reality, she just had no clue what to say to him anymore and each day that passed made it harder instead of easier.

If Mary was going to be completely honest with herself, this wasn't the first time that her son had done something that had scared her. She'd been a bit unnerved at times watching as he'd decapitated, shot, stabbed, burned, and hacked up monsters of all types. She'd come to realize over the last year that Dean took on most of the dirty work himself to spare John and herself from having to do it. But it was not always comfortable to watch her five year old performing those acts, especially when he'd sometimes crack severely inappropriate jokes before, during, and after the fact. Yet all those time she'd understood that he'd just been doing what had to be done, what he'd been trained to do all his life. This time, however, was completely different. This wasn't a hunter killing a monster. What she'd seen in her son was barely even human. Dean hadn't just killed that demon, he'd slaughtered it. And then he'd turned on them. Her own son had attacked her husband and for a moment she'd been certain that the boy was going to kill him. Mary knew that it wasn't really Dean's fault. It was because of all the torture he'd been through at the hands of Alastair while in Hell for decades. But it had still happened. And Mary still couldn't forget it. And it was making her act awkward around Dean, which was causing her already traumatized son even more pain. Which was making her feel terrible.

And now, just as she was about to go passed Dean's door to put away Sammy's clothes, it had swung open. She stopped dead and held her breath. From her spot in the hall, Mary could hear her sons' conversation. And it was just another knife twisting in her heart. She didn't know what they'd been doing before the door had been opened, but when Dean suggested that Sammy leave, the toddler refused, wanting to stick by his brother. Dean had tried to convince the smaller boy that he was no good but Sammy wouldn't believe him. And when little Sammy professed his love for his older brother (he'd never even spoken the word 'love' before), Mary turn and fled back down to the laundry room. What the hell kind of mother leaves a one and a half year old to comfort her son? That should've been her job.

"You could've gone into Dean's room."

The clean clothes spilled all over the floor as Mary dropped the laundry basket and spun around to come face to face with Castiel. The angel was standing only inches away from her. Dean had been right. He really didn't grasp the concept of personal space. Mary didn't bother asking Castiel how he knew that she had been eavesdropping on her sons' conversation. The angel always seemed to know everything.

"I don't see _you_ in Dean's bedroom." Mary shot back rather defensively.

"You could not see anything in his room from down here."

Mary sent him an annoyed look. "Cheap shot, Castiel. You know what I mean."

"Yes I do. But since I have been his only companion for the last four days, it is not me that he needs to see."

"I'm not the one closing his bedroom door."

"But you _are_ the one not opening it."

"Is that why you came down here? To give me a guilt trip? Because if it is, you can save your speech."

"It's not my intention to make you feel guilty. My intention is to get you to talk to your son."

Mary sighed. "Do you really think that Dean wants to talk about what happened?"

"No. Nor do I think that you are ready to face what happened that night. You still look upon him with fear. But that is not what I am suggesting."

"Then what are you saying, Castiel?" Mary knelt down and started picking her sons' clothes back up off the floor. She re-folded them and placed them back in the laundry basket. Anything to avoid the angel's penetrating blue eyes.

"I am saying that you go upstairs tonight and not pretend that Dean is sleeping when it is dinner time." Castiel instructed. Mary didn't insult either of their intelligence by asking how he knew that she knew that Dean wasn't really sleeping those previous evenings. "When he is at the table, you should try to treat him like normal."

"Dean thinks I don't love him anymore." Mary confided, standing up and facing Castiel once again.

"Have you told him that you love him?"

"No."

"Then all he knows since the weekend is that you fear him. And, since you don't speak to him, he has drawn the conclusion that you hate him." Castiel stepped close to her until they were mere inches apart again. "Dean and I have had our differences many times over the years. Sometimes, getting back into our normal routine was all we needed to start to rebuild the trust that had been lost between us."

"So what, eating a meal together will magically solve all our problems?" Mary asked skeptically.

"No. But Dean will begin to understand that you do not hate him and you will begin to see that you do not need to fear him. If you don't want to lose your son for good, you need to do something."

Mary sighed. "When did _you_ become such an expert on humans?"

"I'm not." Castiel admitted. "But I do like to think that I'm an expert on Dean. Especially after this past year. And it has been a year today."

"Today?" Mary's eyes widened. He was right. It was November second. It had been a whole year since her son had traveled back to save her life. But something else had happened that night. She had made her son feel rejected by telling him that he wasn't 'her Dean'. Even twelve months later she couldn't forget what she'd said. And now she was making him feel even worse, yet this time she wasn't doing anything to fix the situation. But she could. Because Castiel was right. Maybe all their family needed was a bit of normalcy. Or as close to normalcy as the Winchesters ever got.

"Would you like me to bring Dean his clothes?" Castiel offered.

"No, I got it." Mary responded. She thought she saw the angel smile as she stepped past him to go up the stairs.

When she walked into Dean's room, she found him sprawled out on his bed reading Batman comics to Sammy. The younger boy was chewing on his sleeve and listening intently to every word spoken. Dean was absently rubbing at his sore eye with one hand, his other posed to turn the page.

"There better not be too much violence in that comic." Mary warned.

Dean looked up and rolled his good eye. "No Mom, Batman defeats the villains by asking them kindly to change their bad behavior. Then he gives them cookies for listening."

"Cookies!" Sammy exclaimed happily.

Mary sighed as she went to his dresser and began to put away his shirts.

"I can do that, Mom."

"I've got it, sweetie. Just keep reading to Sammy. He's been looking forwards to seeing you."

"Yeah." Dean's voice sounded a bit hollow.

"When you're done with that, bring him down for dinner. I don't want you to fall asleep early tonight. I'm worried that you're not getting enough to eat. Besides, you're father and I miss having you at the table."

"Sure." Dean didn't really sound like he believed her.

"Love Dee!" Sammy exclaimed, climbing onto his big brother and planting a sloppy kiss onto his face.

Dean smiled, an actual genuine smile, and kissed Sammy on the head. "Love you too, Sammy."

Mary watched how her eldest son treated the little toddler and found that she couldn't even picture him as the crazed, bloody, dangerous person she'd seen over the weekend. That person was gone. Maybe Castiel was right. Maybe all she had to do was get over her own fears and spend some normal time with Dean again to see that everything was really going to be alright. Either way, she had to try. Her son needed her to. Enough people had let him down over his life and she was not going to add her name to that list.

As Mary walked past the bed on her way out of the room, she bent down and kissed Dean's head. He looked up at her with a somewhat startled expression and she just smiled down at him. Mary stepped out into the hall, but didn't close the door behind her.

"I'll bring Sammy down for dinner in about ten minutes or so." Dean called after her.

"Okay, sweetie. See you then." Mary knew that it would still be a bit awkward that night at the table but it was a good first step. Maybe they'd get a break and things would finally start looking up.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. As Sammy gets older, he will play a bigger role, I promise. Until then, we just get really cute, kinda heart breaking scenes between him and Dean. Up next: another hunt, more hallucinations, and... well, you'll just have to read it if you want to see if things get better or worse for the Winchesters... Please take a moment and leave a review. Thanks._


	53. Light 'Em Up

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! I'm back a day early! Hoping to keep the hellhounds at bay... I want to thank Pizzapig, angelofheaven001, nourss, numb3rs mystery, EllyKayWasHere, Gustin azza, liebedero, Lady No Da 201, Nyx Ro, AlElizabeth, demonsinger, Mysterious Prophetess, Vampy, Jasper6509, if-llamas-could-fly, Hasmik Aharonyan, celestialstarynight, VGiselleH, FireChildSlytherin5, captainassbutt, savannaharaiza5, FireAngel5683, Minipou, LilyBolt, drsummers, BranchSuper, Mizunou, Eliza Ghost, RoseDragon666, Shorty22133, Vanya Starwind, Angel if Nightfall, Silvermoon of Forestclan, guest, xAnita88x, and guest for their awesome reviews. Many of you have predicted that I would not let things get better for the Winchesters but would instead have things take a turn for the worst... lets see if my reputation holds up..._

**Chapter Fifty-Three: Light 'Em Up**

Dean trailed behind his parents and Cas as they hiked through the dark, damp underground tunnels. He wasn't too thrilled about being out on this hunt with both him and his dad still injured from the last hunt, but this couldn't wait. Besides, if they hustled, there wouldn't be any problems with this. A hunt that had had a body count in the dozens the first time around wouldn't claim a single life this time. If they timed it correctly, this would be easier than a salt and burn.

Dean vaguely remembered his father coming back to their crappy motel room night after night, getting more and more frustrated as people kept on dying. Dean would leave Sammy sleeping in their bed and go try to comfort his daddy, letting him know that he was a good man and that it wasn't his fault that people had died, and that he killed lots of bad things and that he'd kill this thing too. And Dean stayed up with his dad every night to comfort him until the night that his dad had had enough of what he saw as his own failure and had gotten way too drunk before coming back to the motel. _That_ had not ended well. Dean suppressed a shudder at that particular memory.

But it hadn't been too long after that night when the case had been cracked. It wasn't a creature that was killing the people, but rather a group of creatures. Szazlabu were viscous centipede like beasts that would come to about Dean's knees at the time of their hatching and would grow in length to be at least eight meters long. They had super sharp teeth and ate human innards. What Dean had read in his father's journal was that a nest of them had hatched in this town and the juveniles had gone out to help themselves to the population. The mother was long dead, as the gestational period for the eggs was longer that the lifespan of the creature, but the hatchlings were born self sufficient. What Dean knew was that there were always fourteen eggs, the eggs were nearly indestructible until just moments before hatching, and that the babies always eat exactly twenty-four hours after hatching. It was like a bizarre math problem. He wondered if Mrs. Bradley would appreciate him sharing it with the class. Dean had figured out when the attacks started and subtracted twenty-four hours, so they knew when the critters would hatch. Now they where on their way to burn the fourteen eggs to a crisp. No hatched Szazlabu, no dead townspeople. Everyone wins. Well, everyone except the Szazlabu, but they were creepy bug-like monsters that ate people's internal organs, so who really cared what they wanted anyway.

"Do you know how close we are?"

Dean looked up and saw his dad looking down at him with eyes that were completely white. Alastair. He'd found him again. He was here to take him away and torture him while wearing his father's body. Oh god. Oh god, no. Please, no.

"Dean?" His mom was looking at him with a concerned expression. Couldn't she see what was wrong? Didn't she know that her husband was possessed?

Wait, no. Dad couldn't be possessed. He'd gotten an anti-possession tattoo months ago. That's why Alastair hadn't used any of them before now. This wasn't real. It wasn't real. It was another hallucination. It had to be.

"What?" Dean asked, hating the way his voice cracked.

"Are you okay?" His mother squeezed past his dad and placed a hand on his face. Dean was pleased to note that all her hesitation and fear from just a few days ago seemed to have passed. Now she just seemed concerned about him. But he needed that to stop as well. If she knew how nuts he really was, she'd turn her back on him again for sure.

"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking."

"Your dad asked if you knew where the nest was."

"Uh, no. Dad was here in the other timeline, but just noted the entrance to the tunnel. I was never down here that time."

His father nodded. "Okay then, we'll just keep going. You sure you're okay?"

Dean forced a smile to his face. "Yeah."

No one looked convinced, but they started walking once again. Cas hung back and walked by his side, which was difficult since the tunnels were so narrow. But the boy didn't mind the slight discomfort the crowding in caused since having the angel close by gave him a sense of comfort. Not that that was something he'd ever admit to, of course.

Dean almost groaned out loud when he heard the growling of the hellhound right on his heels. _Not real, not real, not real, not real._ Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt Cas' hand rest on his shoulder and he looked up at the angel and smiled.

"This hunt will go better than the last one, Dean."

"I know, Cas."

"Then, what is troubling you?"

"What isn't?"

"Dean?"

"Never mind. I'm just… it's nothing. Let's just fry us some eggs and go home."

It was only a few minutes later when the tunnel opened up into a slightly larger area. It wasn't a large cavern or cave like Dean had been expecting but he assumed that it was the best that Mama Bug had been able to find. The young hunter counted quickly and discovered that all fourteen eggs were there. He walked up to one of them and poked it with his finger. It was as hard as a rock.

"We're a bit early. These things won't burn yet."

"Better early than late." His dad replied. "We'll just get them ready and then wait"

Dean nodded his approval at the plan and then reached for the pack that Cas had brought with him. Both Dean and his father had been forbidden from any heavy lifting on this job. The boy unzipped the bag and pulled out bottles of lighter fluid. He handed them out to the others, keeping one for himself, and then they got to work.

Dean poured the accelerant over all of the eggs along one of the walls, watching his family take care of the rest. Once the shells felt pliant, they'd light them up and watch them burn. The only risk was that the shells became pliant mere second before the juvenile Szazlabu hatched and there was a chance that some would emerge while burning. If that happened, they'd just pick them off with their shotguns, if the flames didn't roast the little beasts first.

Dean poked one of the eggs again. "Not yet."

All they could do was wait. Which Dean really didn't want to do. The longer they waited, the more likely it was that someone would ask him how he was doing, or why he seemed so jumpy, or some other question that he really didn't want to answer. Dean glanced around the large cavernous space to see hundreds of chains hanging down, each one ending with a sharp, bloody meat-hook. Soon, he knew, they'd be piercing his skin and pulling him high above the floor to hang for God knew how long until… No. It wasn't real. His parents were here. Cas was here. This space was in reality very small, not a huge never ending cavern. He was on a hunt, not in Hell. This was all a hallucination.

"Dean?"

"What?" He turned to his mom and knew by her expression that he had to look as panicked as he felt.

"Sweetheart, what is it? What's wrong?"

_Well Mom, I'm insane and for a moment I thought I was back in Hell, so you and Dad would probably be best off pouring that lighter fluid on me as well and leaving me behind while you light this whole damned place up. It will be easiest on all of us because then you won't have to be stuck with me as your son and I won't have to see the fear and disappointment in your eyes._ Dean shook his head to rid his mind of those dark thoughts. "Nothing."

"Dean, son, we can see that something is bothering you. Please, talk to us." His father pleaded.

"We got a job to do." Dean reminded them, desperate to get the attention off of himself.

Cas tested one of the eggs. "We cannot move ahead with the next step of this hunt yet, Dean. And your well-being is extremely important."

"So, you're all ganging up on me now?"

"Dean…" His mom started.

"Look, it's nothing, okay?" Dean insisted. After all, it wasn't like he couldn't deal with the hallucinations all on his own. He'd been doing it just fine since they'd started. The boy sighed and rubbed at the stitches on the right side of his face, trying to find the right words to make the others stop their worrying. "Just, I screwed up our last job and am a bit nervous now. And I know you guys gotta be feeling the same."

His dad sighed. "Dean, I know that we didn't handle things too well after what happened, but I swear to you that I'm not thinking that you'll have a repeat of last time. That wasn't your fault. Anyone going through what you went through would've reacted like that. Hell, they probably would've been worse. Cas says that that was after thirty years of constant torture. I can't even imagine how you can be sane after that. Most people wouldn't be able to come back from something like that. I knew people that went through far less and lost their humanity from it. Dean, you're a remarkable person. You really are. And I trust you. And even if something like that happens again, your mother and I will be there to help you through it."

Dean felt the tears welling up in his eyes and the lump in his throat. He couldn't believe that those words had just come from his father. "Dad, I…" He was about to tell his dad how much what he said meant to him and finally come clean about his Hell visions. If his dad had promised to stand by him, then maybe Dean could take that chance. But then, from the corner of his eye, the small hunter saw one of the eggs start to shift slightly. "Light 'em up! Burn 'em! They're gonna hatch now!"

Dean pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on just as his dad did the same. They both tossed the small devices onto the fuel drenched eggs and watched as they burst into flames. A high pitched screeching filled the small area. The flames spread quickly and the Winchesters had to start backing down the tunnel so that they wouldn't be burned as well. Cas could easily get them out of there and to safety, but they couldn't leave until they knew that all of the eggs were completely destroyed.

Unfortunately, it looked like their bad luck streak was far from over because three of the eggs suddenly broke open and large, nasty-looking flaming bug creatures skittered out and came right at them. Dean had no weapon that would work against them, so he tried to step away from them, to allow his parents to get a clear shot. But one of the Szazlabu must have seen him as easy prey (didn't everyone nowadays?) and launched itself right at Dean. The boy was knocked backwards by the flaming creature and fell to the ground. He cried out as he felt his clothes catch fire and tried desperately to hold the baby monster back with his arm so that it wouldn't eat him.

"Get the hell off my son!" His dad yelled but couldn't shoot the thing without risking hitting Dean.

Luckily, Cas was right next to the youngest hunter and ripped the Szazlabu off of Dean bare handed and threw it onto the ground. Dean's dad didn't hesitate to pull the trigger and blow the bug-like monstrosity into little bits. Then the man was pulling off his jacket and dropping down next the boy. Dean was lying on the ground, listening to another shotgun going off, but not really paying attention as he felt the flames burning away his clothes and licking at his skin. Maybe he'd been wrong.

He was underground. There were creatures all around him. There was screaming… possibly his own. And now he was on fire and burning. Maybe he was in Hell after all.

No. He had been rescued by Cas a long time ago. Hadn't he? This was just… he was going crazy. He was with his parents on a hunt, not in Hell. Not in Hell. Or was he?

He was vaguely aware that his dad was speaking to him frantically but he didn't know what was being said as he swept his gaze around. Dean closed his eyes as the tears began to leak out. He just wasn't sure what was real anymore.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** I am hiding under my cot, locked up safely in my panic room, holding a shotgun filled with rocksalt, a Bible by my side, and a flask of holywater in my pocket. So bring it on! I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. _


	54. Screwed Up

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! To those in the USA, I hope you all had a wonderful Memorial Day. I did some grilling outside, but the hellhounds chased me back in... Anyway, I would like to thank nourss, Pizzapig, FireChildSlytherin5, FireAngel5683, numb3rs mystery, elfinblue, liebedero, AlElizebeth, RoseDragon666, VGiselleH, Invader Kiwi, Nyx Ro, CaptainPetrichor, LilyBolt, Celestialstarynight, savannaharaiza5, EllyKayWasHere, zhen123, BranchSuper, Gustin azza, Jasper6509, roy23, angelofheaven001, Vanya Starwind, if-llamas-could-fly, laurie31, guest, Lili-Hunter, Bing Bing 9312, Eliza Ghost, Silvermoon of Forestclan, Lady No Da 201, Hasmik Aharonyan, and Mysterious Prophetess for their awesome reviews. You guys are the best. _

**Chapter Fifty-Four: Screwed Up**

John Winchester ignored the aching in his ribs and the pounding of his heart as he cradled his son in his arms. Dean was staring past him at absolutely nothing and screaming in pain and terror. It reminded John a bit of that terrible night not too long ago but this time the father wasn't scared_ of_ his boy but rather _for_ him. Tears were streaming down the child's face and John felt a bit like crying as well because he didn't know what to do. He somehow doubted that Dean's only problem was the pain that the fire had surely caused him when it burned through his shirt and scorched his flesh, but he didn't know what else was wrong. The boy wasn't acting exactly like he had when trapped in his memories of Hell, so that wasn't it. But then, what was the problem, and what could John do to help?

"Dean? Son, please, what's wrong. Hey buddy, I want to help you. Talk to me, please."

Dean stopped screaming and looked up at him with large, watery eyes. His breathing was ragged and he opened his mouth as if to talk but then just shook his head and brought up his hands and started clawing at the stitches in his face. John grabbed the boy's hands before he could cause too much damage and held them down. Blood trickled from where Dean had opened a portion of the healing wound, but it didn't look too bad.

"Dean, stop. You're going to hurt yourself, buddy. Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?" John prayed that he did.

Dean looked around for a moment. John wondered what he was seeing. Was he seeing his father holding him and Mary and Cas making sure that all the Szazlabu were well and truly dead before they got the hell out of these god forsaken tunnels? Or was he seeing Hell again?

"Dad?"

"Yeah son, it's me."

"Hurts."

"You got burned. But you'll be okay."

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"What? It's not your fault, Dean."

"I'm screwed up. Don't know what's real anymore."

Now John was starting to get scared for his son again. "What do you mean, son. You know you're not in Hell, right? You're with your mom and I. And Cas is here too. We'll keep you safe."

"I know, Dad. But I… I keep seeing things… I should've said something… but I was scared…" Dean was crying now but he seemed a bit more focused. Just then, Cas and Mary came up behind them.

"We got them all." Cas announced. John turned to see that the angel's hands were burned where he'd grabbed the creature that had been attacking Dean. The hunter knew from experience that Cas would heal quickly but he still felt grateful that the angel was willing to risk injury to rescue another person's child.

"Great. Can we get out of here before the fire gets out of control?"

"I think that would be a wonderful idea." Mary commented, but her attention was fixed on Dean.

Cas placed a hand on John, who was still holding his son, and Mary and they all appeared back outside of the tunnels. The father took a deep breath of the fresh, clean air and watched as Dean did the same.

"Dean, sweetie? What's wrong?" Mary asked.

The boy shook his head, biting his lip and trying to stop his crying.

"Dean, you were trying to tell me something before. What was it?" John prompted. "You said you saw something. And that you were scared."

Dean seemed to think for a minute and his gaze swept from him to Mary to Cas and back to him. Then he jumped and looked past John and his eyes widened. John turned, expecting to see one of the Szazlabu skittering across the grass, coming right at them, but there was nothing there. Dean's breathing sped up but then he closed his eyes and started whispering something. John leaned close enough to hear him.

"Not real, not real, not real, not real." After a moment, Dean opened his eyes and relaxed.

"Dean?"

"I'm seeing stuff. Stuff that's not real. Hallucinations. Of things from Hell."

John nodded, trying to remain calm for his son's sake. "When did this start?"

"That night. The first one was in the ER."

"And you didn't think to mention this to us?" He tried to keep the edge from his voice, he really did, but when Dean flinched away a bit, John figured he must've failed miserably.

"I… I just… you and mom were already… you thought I was crazy 'cause of what happened and you were scared of me and who could blame you and I thought you hated me and I knew I deserved it but I didn't want to lose you for good so I didn't want to tell you 'cause I didn't want you to know how crazy I really was and what a complete and total failure you have for a son." Dean's confession came rushing out all in one breath.

John shook his head as he tried to digest all the information that Dean had just poured out. Knowing that his son was having hallucinations was scary. Knowing that he hadn't wanted to tell anyone for fear of being feared, hated, and rejected was terrifying. And what made it even worse was that John himself had added to Dean's insecurities by allowing him to feel like he was feared and hated for days after the last incident. Maybe if he'd gotten his own act together, stowed his fears, and just held his son and assured him that everything was alright, Dean would've been able to come to him about these hallucinations when they'd first showed up rather than facing them alone for all this time. But no, not John Winchester. The tough as nails ex-marine had allowed himself to feel nervous and awkward around his own five year old son and thus left the boy to suffer by himself. Some father he turned out to be.

"Damn it!" John exclaimed.

Dean was off his lap and scrambling backwards in an instant, the hole in his burned shirt shifting to reveal the red, blistered skin underneath. The mix of fear, self-loathing, and resignation in his eyes was like a knife to John's heart. "I'm sorry I said anything. I… I won't let it interfere with my hunting and I won't go nuts and hurt anyone again. I promise."

John couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't listen to Dean saying these awful things. "Dean, stop! Just stop!" He knew his yelling wasn't helping the situation, but god, if the boy said one more thing against himself, John would be the one going crazy.

"John…" Mary said his name warningly, as if he didn't already know that he was being a complete ass and screwing everything up.

Dean started edging further away and John stood up and reached out to grab the boy to stop him from darting off into the night. But as his hand got near, Dean flinched away, as if expecting a blow. Which was ridiculous. John had never hit either of his sons before. Of course, he wasn't the only John Winchester that Dean had had to grow up with… But no. Because as flawed as the other him obviously had been, that man was still him and if he could do something like that… But there was no time to think about that. He'd have to ask Dean about it another time, if he found the courage. For now, he had to calm his son.

"Dean." He worked hard to keep his voice low and even. "Please son, come back over here."

As if the heavens themselves had sensed the mood, the skies opened up and ice cold rain began to pour down on the Winchesters. They were soaked through in a matter of seconds. John could see Cas standing close to Dean, offering comfort but not making any move to intercede, knowing that this moment was meant to be between Dean and his father. John just prayed that he could turn it around and somehow handle it correctly.

Dean looked like he was ready to bolt, to just take off into the dark and part of John was afraid that he'd never see his son again. But then the boy took a deep breath and squared his shoulders and his father saw the strong grown up hunter that Dean really was.

"Fine, I'll come back over there. And I get it that I screwed up, that I _am _a screw up, but if you think that I'm gonna let you keep screaming at me or start smacking me around, you're wrong. You don't have to like me, but I'm not putting up with that crap again." His words were tough, but John saw that there was more than just rain running down Dean's face.

And as the words sank in, tears ran from John's eyes as well. Dean had just confirmed what the older hunter had been worrying was true just moments before. "Dean, no. I would never hurt you. And I'm sorry for yelling. I've got a temper, we all know that. But it's not your fault. You didn't screw up. And you're not a screw up. Never think that. Never. C'mon, son. Let's get you out of the rain. Let's all go home and we'll get you patched up and talk more. We can help you through this, Dean."

"How? I'm crazy, Dad! Nuts! And it's only a matter of time before you and mom realize this and give up on me." Despite his hopeless words, Dean stepped up close to his dad once again.

"We'd never give up on you." Mary insisted, coming over to them.

"That's what you say now. But you left me last time. And I don't blame you, I really don't. I just know that it'll happen again. Especially since there's something really wrong with me."

"But it's not your fault. And it's not anything that we can't beat together. Please son, give us a chance to help you." John didn't think that he'd ever begged for anything before in his entire life, but he was begging now.

Dean looked at him with an expression that seemed trapped between hopeful and skeptical. Luckily, hope seemed to win out, because he stepped forwards and threw his arms around John.

"Then can we get the hell outta this rain and go home? I'm freezing my ass off."

"Sure, Dean. Cas?"

With a touch of the angel's hand, they found themselves back home. It was the middle of the night, so they wouldn't go to Bobby's to pick up Sammy until the morning. No sense waking the cranky hunter or the toddler. Of course, now they were leaving a puddle in the middle of the living room floor, but that was better than getting even more wet out in the rain.

"Mary, can you bring us some towels?"

Dean was shivering, and John pulled the boy back away from him slightly so that he could start peeling off the wet clothing. He was especially carefully with Dean's t-shirt as the material had become stuck to the burns on the child's stomach and chest. His son hissed between his teeth and let out a groan but to his credit didn't cry out as more than one of the blisters were ruptured. John called to Mary to bring the first aid kit along with the towels. He was glad that none of the burns were worse than second degree though. That meant they wouldn't have to make yet another trip to the hospital. This would've been a bit hard to explain.

Once he had the towels, John turned around to give his son some privacy while the boy stripped his wet pants off and wrapped his lower half up. Then the man gently cleaned the burns, smothered them with silver sulfadiazine cream, and taped some gauze over them. After that, John wrapped another towel around Dean's shoulders. Then he took a look at the boy's face. In his earlier panic, Dean had torn out a couple of his stitches and they would need to be replaced. Luckily, they had the correct colored thread so that no one would notice that the new stitches weren't professionally done. After Dean was completely patched up, John smiled down at him gently.

"Okay buddy, you're all set. Why don't you get into some nice warm pajamas? We'll make some hot chocolate and finish up our talk? Or would you rather get some rest?"

Dean looked like he was exhausted, practically ready to drop, but after a moment's hesitation, he shook his head. "No. I guess this conversation is long overdue. No use putting it off any longer."

John nodded, although after all the night's previous revelations, he was a bit wary of what he'd hear next.

_**Author's Note Part Two: ** Hope you all enjoyed. By the way, I appreciate irony as much as the next writer, but I didn't think it was all that humorous when I ended up with second degree burns yesterday (I'm actually NOT making that up!). So whoever hid the hex bag in my house, call it off, please... Next up, Cas POV and we get to see if anything can be done to help Dean. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	55. Help and Support

_**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! Hope you all had a good week. I'd like to thank VGiselleH, elfinblue, nourss, Gustin azza, celestialstarynight, Dazja, Pizzapig, numb3rs mystery, RoseDragon666, liebedero, Nyx Ro, if-llamas-could-fly, CaptainPetrichor, angelofheaven001, FireChildSlytherin5, BranchSuper, Mysterious Prophetess, Lily Bolt, AlElizabeth, savannaharaiza5, guest, meemeBear, Lady No Da 201, CherryYume, and Eliza Ghost for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! Now, on to the Winchester family moment to see if there's any help for little Dean... _

**Chapter Fifty-Five: Help and Support**

The Winchesters' living room was quiet as Castiel stood waiting for Dean to come back downstairs. He had gotten himself dried off and into clothes that weren't soaked all the way through and had made it back before his friend had. Not that that came as a surprise to him. The angel was certain that Dean was taking his time in getting ready for the upcoming conversation. Castiel had witnessed the hunter run headlong into no-win situations and hopeless looking battles many times over the years with not a moment's hesitation but when it came to discussing his feelings, Dean would most of the time put it off as long as humanly possible. But the youth had been right when he'd told his father that the conversation was long overdue.

Castiel looked over at the stairs and mentally kicked himself yet again. Dean was hallucinating. How could he have missed this? He spent every moment with Dean (well, except for when Dean was in the bathroom, because the angel had no desire to repeat the conversation that had resulted from his attempt to follow his friend into there) and yet he'd somehow failed to realize that the young hunter had been having visions of Hell. What kind of guardian angel was he? Castiel had noticed that Dean had been jumpy, but when confronted, Dean had brushed it off as an aftereffect of his flashback. And Castiel had believed him. The angel supposed that in a way, it was the truth. But still… He should've pressed. Should've questioned Dean more. He'd been there when Dean had come back from Hell. After all, Castiel had been the one that had dragged his soul from the pit. He knew that it hadn't been easy for Dean to get over, so why would it be easy for a five year old version of his friend to live through it all over again? Why did Castiel allow Dean to make him believe that a mere child could've just brushed the experience off so quickly? Because it was Dean. Because Castiel wanted to believe that his friend was alright. But now he knew that Dean wasn't alright and he knew that he had to find a way to help him.

"Did you know?"

Castiel turned to see John standing a few feet away, sipping coffee from an over-sized mug. "If I had known, don't you think I would've helped him?"

"Is there a way to help him?"

Castiel wanted to say 'yes', to insist that all it would take was for him to lay his hands on Dean and the traumatized young hunter would once again be alright, but he had no way of knowing. "I will know once we hear him out and we figure out what exactly is wrong with him."

"It's always something, isn't it?"

"With Dean? Yes. I do not believe I can recall a time that I have known him where things have been calm."

John sighed "I just… I want to make things better for him."

"You are."

Any further conversation was cut off when Castiel heard Dean's quiet footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned his head to see the boy descending the staircase wearing a pair of green pajamas. He still looked a bit chilled, but was regaining some of his color.

"Dean."

"Hey, Cas. Hey, Dad. That hot chocolate ready yet?"

"Your mom should be bringing it in soon."

"I'm bringing it in right now, actually." Mary announced as she entered the room, carrying a tray holding three steaming mugs, a plate of cookies, a few slices of apple pie on plates, silverware, and napkins.

Dean flopped down on the couch and smiled gratefully at his mother. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome." She handed him his mug and placed a plate of pie on the couch next to him along with a fork.

Castiel accepted the proffered cup of coffee and a chocolate chip cookie. He sat on the couch next to Dean who was carefully sipping his hot drink. The angel looked down at his young friend. The hunter had a haunted look in his eyes but seemed to be holding himself together remarkably well. Castiel marveled yet again at the strength that Dean had inside.

"So…" John started.

"What d'ya wanna know?" Dean asked around a mouthful of apples and pie crust.

"You said you were having hallucinations. When? How frequent are they?"

Dean shrugged. "A few a day. I mean, some days are worse than others. Sometimes I go for hours before I get hit by one but other times they come at me rapid fire."

"Any idea what sets them off?" Mary asked.

"Anything? Nothing?" Dean shrugged again. "I don't know. I mean, when I'm stressed out or nervous or something like that, they get worse. But they still show up even when I'm calm."

"What are they?" John asked. "What exactly are you seeing?"

"You know, Hell stuff."

"What does that mean?"

Castiel watched as Dean shifted uncomfortably and took a sip of his drink. The young hunter was trying to put off answering the question. He didn't want to reveal any more details about his time in Hell than he had to. But after a moment, Dean gave in.

"Fire. Sometimes I see things on fire. Or I see people with black eyes. Or there's blood all over the place. And then I here demonic laughter and the screams of people being tortured. Often times, I'll see chains hanging from the ceiling, with bloodstained meathooks on the ends of them. At school sometimes I'll go to pick up a pencil but it'll become a bloody razor instead. And I hear hellhounds growling and snarling and see them following me a lot."

Castiel noticed that Dean was looking down at his plate the entire time he was speaking, refusing to look anyone in the eye.

"When it's happening, do you believe it to be real?" The angel asked him.

Dean looked up at him. "No. I mean, not most of the time. Sometimes I do at first, but then I look around and see that no one else is reacting and I figure that it can't be real. Also, you know, if my teacher was really possessed, I doubt you'd let me stay in class." He let out a half-hearted laugh. "So, I guess that makes me a functioning schizophrenic, huh?"

"You're not crazy, Dean." John insisted.

"I'm having freakin' hallucinations, Dad. What would you call me?"

"Troubled." Castiel answered.

"Nice, Cas." Dean commented. "Very PC."

Mary spoke next, in a soft, comforting tone. "Dean, tonight you seemed like you really thought you were back… back there again."

"Yeah well, Hell hallucinations combined with catching on fire makes for a pretty damned convincing experience. It's usually not that bad. Case in point, I bet none of you would've suspected that I'm seeing crap right now."

Castiel looked at Dean and saw that aside from his pupils being slightly dilated and his breathing being off a bit, he was acting almost normal. The young hunter looked past everyone to stare across the room. Castiel looked to the same spot and, unsurprisingly, saw nothing.

"What is it, son?" John asked.

"The damned chains again. I really hate those things. And they're dripping blood all over the carpet."

"Can you help him, Cas?" John wanted to know. "Like you did when he was having the flashback? And like you do with his nightmares?"

"It depends." Castiel responded. "If it is a case of the memories pressing into his conscious mind, then yes, I can push them back. But if this is because his mind was put through too much from being forced to relive Hell, then I cannot take away his visions."

"How will you know?" Dean questioned.

"I need to see if I can view your hallucinations." Castiel informed him. He reached out a hand to place on his friend's forehead. "May I?"

Dean hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "Go for it."

The angel laid his palm on the boy's head and felt the slight jolt as he connected with Dean's mind. Castiel looked over to where the young hunter was staring at and felt his heart sink. He still saw nothing.

"Is that where you are seeing the chains?"

"Yeah."

"Are they still there?"

"Yeah, but I'm guessing that you don't see them."

"I do not."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that this is not the same as what happened when you were having flashbacks or nightmares."

"It means you can't help me." Dean nodded his head and tried to look like he was okay with the answer but Castiel could see his friend's disappointment.

"I cannot cure you instantly, no."

Dean pulled away and hopped up off the couch, knocking his half-eaten pie onto the floor and spilling some of his hot chocolate. "Well, it's fine. Really. I've been coping just fine on my own, so no big deal."

"You're not on your own." Mary insisted.

"Right." Dean raised both eyebrows in a somewhat skeptical expression. "Of course not."

"Son, we've been over this. I told you earlier that your mother and I will never leave you."

"Nor will I." Castiel assured him.

"You say that now. But everyone leaves me. Everyone. And besides, Cas just admitted that there's nothing that can be done to help me. I'm crazy and no one can help me."

"No, Dean. I said that I couldn't cure you instantly. But I will not give up on you. You are doing a remarkable job of fighting your way through this; of figuring out what is real and what is not. Allow us to assist you in your struggles."

"How?" Dean was probably trying to sound tough but his voice came out as almost desperate.

"If you ever question what is or is not real, we can help. Just ask."

John placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "If you ever need anyone to just lean on for support, we'll be here."

"Yeah, great, so you'll all be here to visit me when they haul me away to the funny farm. Nice to know."

"It won't be like that, Dean" Castiel insisted.

"Cas, you and I both know haw this story ends." The boy was staring him straight in the eye and the angel knew he was thinking of Sam after the wall in his head had come crashing down by Castiel's own hand.

"This isn't the same, Dean. You're not…" Castiel stopped himself from saying Sam's name, certain that Dean didn't want his parents to know that particular story. "You're not him. This isn't the same situation. You've been here before, when you got back from Hell the first time."

"No." Dean shook his head. "I… I had some flashes, saw some stuff. But it wasn't like this. It never got this bad."

"You also weren't five years old then." Castiel pointed out. "A child's mind is just not as capable of dealing with these memories. But, that said, you are coping much better than one would expect. I believe that you can, in time, get past this just as you did the first time around. If you keep dismissing the hallucinations, your mind will eventually stop producing them."

"I'll get better?"

"Yes."

It was as if everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief at the same time.

"How long will it take?" John asked.

"I'm not sure." Castiel replied. "There is no precedent for this."

"Hey, if there's a light at the end of this tunnel and it's not Hell fire, I'll take it. I don't care how long the freakin' tunnel is." Dean spoke up. Then he licked his lips, somewhat nervously. "Just… your sure you'll all, you know…"

"We'll be with you, Dean." Castiel replied.

"Through anything." Mary added.

"Awesome." Dean nodded, trying rather unsuccessfully to mask his relief.

"Now get to bed." John ordered, after hugging his son and kissing him gently on the head. "We have to get up early to go pick your brother up from Bobby's tomorrow."

Dean nodded, obviously too exhausted to even think about arguing. Castiel followed his friend upstairs, hoping that he was right and that Dean's recovery would come quickly.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Now before anyone kills, maims, or curses me for not curing Dean, it just wasn't in the cards for him at this moment. But he's in good hands and on his way to getting better, that has to count for something, right? Up next, my longest time jump yet, the start of a new hunt, and someone we haven't visited in a while. Hope you all enjoyed and please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks._


	56. After Time Has Passed

_**Author's Note: **Hi faithful readers, I'm back. This chapter takes place a year and a half after the events of the last one. Told you all it would be the longest time jump yet! I want to thank Pizzapig, angelofheaven001, FireChildSlytherin5, elfinblue, nourss, Hasmik Aharonyan, if-llamas-could-fly, liebedero, LilyBolt, VGiselleH, guest, Mysterious Prophetess, savannaharaiza5, Nyx Ro, Elle, Dev's Inferno, BranchSuper, Knowledge is a powerful tool, angel del acuario, Jasper6509, MeemeBear, Gustin azza, AlElizabeth, Eliza Ghost, MelodyP-RiverS, Lady No Da201, and Silvermoon of Forestclan for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Fifty-Six: After Time Has Passed **

"Dean, how's that engine lookin', boy?"

"I know I'm good, but I'm no miracle worker, Bobby. I'm gonna need a bit more time under the hood. This piece of crap is shot to Hell and back. And trust me, they shoulda just left it in Hell." The kid called back.

Bobby grinned and shook his head. "Ya wanna take a break and get a drink?"

"A real drink?" Now the boy's head popped out from where he'd had it stuck practically inside of the old rust bucket's inner workings.

"Yeah, 'cause I want yer Mama ta skin me alive when she gets back from the store." Bobby replied with a roll of his eyes.

The seven year old made a face. "C'mon, I won't tell her and you won't tell her, so she'll never know."

"Mothers know everything, boy." Bobby chuckled.

Dean nodded his acknowledgement to that statement. As the small hunter ran his grease coated hands through his dark blonde hair, making it stick up all over the place, Bobby studied him closely. The Winchesters had gotten in late last night and he hadn't had a chance to do more than greet them and show them to their rooms. Then, this morning had been a blur of activity as Bobby had filled them in on the very few details he had on the case, and John and Cas had gotten ready drive off into the neighboring town to start the job. As soon as Mary had left for the store with a reluctant Sammy to do some grocery shopping, Dean had immediately volunteered to help with the car repairs. As a result, the older hunter had yet to get a good look at the boy. He was slightly under average height and a bit on the thin side but he was more athletic and stronger than most other children his own age. His hair was a little darker than it had been at age four, his freckles stood out a bit on his pale skin, and he still had the ghost of a scar on the right side of his face from that damned demon encounter almost a year and a half ago. Dean's clear green eyes were slightly dulled by all he'd been through in his life, but Bobby had discovered that the boy was good at hiding that from most everyone. Hell, the old hunter sometimes wondered if the only reason he saw the real Dean was because the kid let him.

"Just one and you can water it down." Dean bargained.

Bobby thought it over. "How ya doin' in school?"

The boy hopped down out of the car he'd been working on. And damned but if that kid wasn't in an under-aged body and being cared for by parents that loved him, Bobby would keep him here and hire him on the spot as a mechanic. No one knew his way around an engine like Dean Winchester.

"Great, actually. Just got my third semester report card and got all A pluses."

"Thought yer mama told ya not ta show off?"

Dean shrugged. "Not trying to, Bobby. But I'm in my thirties and stuck in second grade. Forgive me for doing well. Actually, when this vacation's over and I go back, they got me going for more tests. They want to jump me to fourth grade next year."

"What's yer parents gotta say 'bout this? I know they didn't want ya attractin' much attention to yerself."

"Yeah… they told me I gotta dial it down a bit. But they'll let me do it this one last time if I want. That'll mean I graduate at sixteen."

"Yeah, an maybe ya won't be so bored next year."

"What, you think fourth grade work will be challenging for me?"

"No. Just saying that as ya get into the later grades yer gonna get into the history and science crap that yer gonna hafta memorize all over again, cause I doubt ya remember it from the first time around. Gotta be more entertaining that learning to spell 'cat'."

"How 'bout you, old man? You remember how to spell 'cat'?"

"Watch it, boy!" Bobby warned. "Now, skipping grades seems like somethin' to celebrate, so why don't we go in and get ya that watered-down beer."

"You serious?"

"Yer brushing yer teeth afterwards ta clean up yer breath and ya ain't tellin' yer parents."

"Deal!" Dean grinned.

Bobby grinned back. He knew that he shouldn't encourage certain things, but he couldn't help it. He'd gotten close to the Winchesters over the past couple of years, but none of them more than Dean and he saw how much the boy struggled to be the adult he kinda was while he was also a kid as well. If giving him a severely watered down alcoholic drink made him feel a bit more like himself, well it was worth it.

Bobby led the way into the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. He poured a small amount into a cup and then added water to it and brought the drink to Dean who'd sat down at the table. The two of them clinked their respective beers together and then each took a sip. Dean wrinkled his nose.

"Ya ain't used ta it, huh?"

"Nope. But it's good."

"It's piss and ya know it."

The boy laughed. "Sure is, but outside my dreams, it's all I've had in two and a half years Bobby. So, thanks."

"Don't mention it. You and yer family are here helping me out right now, it's the least I can do."

"Gotta suck to have a case so close to home and you can't stick your nose into it."

Bobby nodded. "But what am I gonna do? Flash a fake badge around just an hour's drive from home? That'll end well."

"Yeah, if someone recognizes you, you'd be in a world of trouble." Dean agreed. "Still, if this turns out to be a case of demonic possession instead of the spiritual type, my parents are gonna kill you. We've managed to avoid demons for almost a year and a half. Dad and Mom kind of obsessive about it after what happened last time."

"I wouldn't've called ya in if I thought demons were involved." Bobby insisted, his attention called back to the scar on Dean's face. He hadn't been there that night, hadn't even seen the small hunter until a week after it had happened, but from what he'd heard, the whole situation had been horrific. He'd never call the family in on a demon case and put his young friend in another position like that. "There have been no demonic omens in or around the area. I even went into town and snuck onto one of the crime scenes. No sulfur."

"So, just a few people spontaneously going nuts and murdering their loved ones. Awesome." Dean took another drink.

"Well, that's the short version. Hopin' that yer daddy and guardian angel can get some actual details today."

"Well, if a ghost is possessing these poor bastards, we gotta find out who it is and salt and burn their bones."

Bobby took a long pull from his bottle. "Ya know, it's thinking like that that's gonna make ya skip grades in school and turn you into the world's best hunter."

"Okay, so I stated the obvious. I just wasn't sure if you'd be able to think of it yourself now that you're going senile and all."

"You actually think yer funny, don't ya, boy?"

"I know I am." Dean replied with a cocky smile. The boy tossed down the last of his beer and put the empty glass on the table.

"Keep tellin' yerself that."

The sound of the front door opening startled them both. "We're back!" Mary Winchester announced, causing Dean to look from his glass to Bobby with a barely concealed panic that would've made the older hunter laugh if it wasn't his neck that was on the line as well. He gestured for the boy to slide the cup over to him and when Dean complied, Bobby took a pack of spearmint gum from his shirt pocket and tossed a piece to the kid. Dean quickly unwrapped the stick and shoved it into his mouth. As the boy chewed the gum to hopefully kill the smell of beer from his breath, Bobby poured the rest of his alcohol into the glass and raised it to his lips as though he'd been drinking from that glass all along.

Mary walked into the kitchen carrying several plastic bags. Sammy trailed after her, dragging a bag on the ground behind him. The woman placed the much needed groceries on the counter top and started to unpack.

"Dean!" Sammy cried out in joy and ran to his older brother.

"Hey, Sammy. Enjoy your shopping trip?"

"Yeah! We got cookies!"

"Really? Did you convince Mom to let you get the good ones?"

"Yeah, Dean. We got Oreos!"

"Awesome." Dean nodded his approval before lowering his voice. "Did you get to eat one in the store?"

"No." Sammy pouted. "Mommy says not 'til affer sammiches."

"If you sneak him any you're both grounded." Mary called over her shoulder.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Mom." Dean replied, with a smile that spoke a completely different story.

Bobby tried not to laugh. He couldn't help but notice how close the two boys were. He just hoped it didn't lead to Dean making dumbass decisions like selling his soul once again.

"Sammy, please go get washed up for lunch."

"Awww, Mommy. I don't wanna."

"Then I guess it's naptime?" Mary asked him.

"I go wash up." Sammy announced.

"Good choice." His mom approved.

Once the little boy was gone, the woman tuned her attention to the two hunters sitting at the table.

"So Dean, I didn't get a chance to ask this morning, how did everything go overnight?"

Dean looked up at her and grinned. "I took Cas to a strip club."

"Dean!" Mary scolded.

Bobby almost choked on the mouthful of beer he'd just drank.

"Just kidding, Mom. No, I took Cas fishing in my dreams. He said that it wasn't difficult to push away the Hell memories. At least, no harder than usual."

"And so far today?"

"No hallucinations yet." Dean responded.

"That's great. It's been over a week."

"Yep." He was trying to act like it was no big deal, but Bobby could tell that he was pleased.

Bobby knew that the boy's hallucinations probably weren't gone for good, but they were becoming far less frequent and not as severe. As a matter of fact, the last time Dean had had one, he'd even rolled his eyes at it. It was a very good sign.

"Well, ya better go get yerself cleaned up too." Bobby instructed Dean. "Ya need it more than yer baby brother does. Less ya want motor oil on yer sandwich."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Dean shrugged.

"You're not poisoning yourself while I'm around." Mary informed him. "So go." As he walked past her, she gave his a curious look. "What's with the gum, Dean? I've never seen you chew gum before."

He shrugged. Bobby noticed that he kept his head turned away from her as he spoke, probably not trusting his breath not to carry the scent of alcohol. "You never keep any in the house."

"It's not good for your teeth." She countered.

"A little won't hurt him." Bobby interjected.

"Does that go for the beer you gave him as well?"

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. "What? Bobby didn't…"

"I'm not stupid. Bobby never drinks bottled beer from a glass. You were both out working on the cars all morning, so I know you have to be thirsty, and yet there was no glass in front of you when I came back. Then you were both shooting nervous glances back and forth as I walked in. The mint gum was just the last piece of the puzzle. And by the way, it doesn't mask the smell enough."

Bobby stood up. "Look, I watered it down quite a bit. I just wanted to…"

"I know. Treat him like an adult." Mary cut the older hunter off.

"Don't be mad at Bobby, Mom." Dean defended him. "I badgered him into it. I just… it's what I was always used to and…"

"Dean, stop! I don't want to hear it. And I am warning you; don't get drunk, don't get alcohol poisoning, and don't drink in front of your brother. Ever. Got it?"

"Seriously?"

"I'm trying to treat you like an adult here, Dean. Don't make me regret it."

"I won't." Dean grinned as he left the room to go wash up.

Bobby looked at Mary in shock.

"I'm surprised that the boy ain't grounded fer life."

"If only I could, I'd ground both him and you. But what am I supposed to do, Bobby? If I treat him like a normal seven year old, he's going to go crazy. I'm sure that's exactly what you were thinking when you let him have a drink just now. He needs to be himself sometimes, even if we don't always understand who he really is. I certainly don't want to encourage bad habits, but on the other hand, he's had years of these habits ingrained in him already. I can't fight them. I'm not even sure I should. He's my son and I love him for who he is, bad habits and all."

"He told me he's gonna be starting fourth grade next year." Bobby mentioned, trying to change the subject to something slightly safer. He was hoping to ease Mary's tension and help her to calm down a bit.

"Yeah. I hope everything goes well."

"Ya got concerns?"

"He may have the memories of his adult self, but Dean's still going to be a seven year old in a class of nine year olds. Plus he's a little small for his age. And the other kids regard him as a genius. A weird genius. And you have to admit, looking at him, you can tell that something about him is just a bit… off."

"Yer afraid of him getting picked on?"

"Wouldn't any mother be afraid of something like that?"

"Well, yer boy can certainly defend himself."

Mary sighed. "Yeah, that's something else I'm concerned about. What if he's pushed too far and his temper snaps. He can really hurt someone. Or what if he doesn't. Dean does have his own personal guardian angel who may just decide to step in and help."

Bobby shook his head. "And I thought my school years were rough."

"These are not things that any parenting classes or books can ever prepare you for."

"Well then, why don't ya just trust Dean ta do his best. He's made it this far while the odds were against him."

"I know. You're right. How'd you ever get to be so smart, Bobby?"

"Just always been that way." Bobby replied.

"I'll bet." Mary smiled. "Oh, but one last thing."

"Yeah?"

"You ever give my son alcohol again without my permission and no one will ever find your body. Understood?"

The older hunter nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now, you should go wash your hands as well."

Bobby walked from the room, wiping his greasy hands on his pants. He could hear Dean and Sammy laughing and splashing water around in the sink in the upstairs bathroom. In that moment he admitted to himself that he probably could've called in another hunter for help with this salt and burn case, but he just loved having the Winchesters over. And since Dean had a week off from school and John was taking some vacation time, maybe he could convince them to stay for a bit when this job was completed. It was nice to feel like he belonged to this strange but nice family.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Well, I hope you all enjoyed. Up next, the investigation begins! This hunt will be multi-chapter. By the way, any relevent info on the missing year and a half will be revealed but if you have any questions, feel free to ask. Please take a moment to leave a review, Thanks._


	57. Twenty Questions

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone, I'm back again! Didn't even give you time to miss me. I guess I surprised you all with a angst-free, nice family-friendly chapter last time. Glad you enjoyed. And I want to thank Silvermoon of Forestclan, elfinblue, FireChildSlytherin5, VGiselleH, angelofheaven001, TardisAngel21, Kershaw, if-llamas-could-fly, guest, guest, numb3rs mystery, Hasmik Aharonyan, Gustin azza, LilyBolt, laurie31, Nyx Ro, savannaharaiza5, AlElizabeth, celestialstarynight, spnfan, Dev's Inferno, Mysterious Prophetess, BranchSuper, guest, gypsymooneygirl7733, zhen123, liebedero, Jasper6509, The Best Kind Of Mad, Eliza Ghost, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. And now, on to the investigation..._

**Chapter Fifty-Seven: Twenty Questions**

"So, what can my little local police force do to help the mighty FBI?" Sheriff Christopher Lyman asked as he tipped his chair back and rested his feet on his desk. His hands were folded in his lap and he looked completely uninterested in providing any sort of help at all.

John suppressed the urge to push the desk, thus knocking the other man from his perch. This was possibly his least favorite part of hunting. Trying to get information out of law enforcement officials that only wanted to stand in their way and waste their time. He wondered how his son had ever found the patience to do it all those years.

"Well Sheriff, I understand that you've had a few murders recently in your town."

"Yep. But you arrived a bit late for them. Already been solved." The man smiled. Actually smiled. People had died, been brutally murdered by their loved ones, and this asshole was sitting here smiling about it. Maybe John _should_ 'accidentally' knock his chair over.

"You've caught all the suspects and proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that they committed the murders?"

"Well, we caught the one murderer that didn't kill himself after he was done with his family. The other three saved us the trouble." Sheriff Lyman shrugged.

"They took their own lives?" Cas questioned, cocking his head to the side.

"That's what I just said, Agent. Hung themselves."

"All three hung themselves?" John asked. "Doesn't that strike you as a bit odd?"

"If you slaughtered your wife and kids in a fit of rage, wouldn't you want to escape your pathetic life afterwards?"

John shook his head, trying to get rid of that mental image. "So, all four killed their families?"

The sheriff sighed, obviously annoyed that the FBI was still in his office questioning him. "Mr. Franks killed his long time girlfriend and then went home, wrote a confession and hung himself. Mr. White killed his wife and son and then wrote a confession and hung himself. Mr. Peabody killed his wife and twin daughters and then wrote a confession and hung himself. And then Mr. Keller killed his girlfriend and wrote a confession and suicide note and left it at the scene and then drove home. But a neighbor saw him leave and we got to his house and arrested him. Now he's claiming he didn't do it. Heaven help me."

"I do not believe you will receive any divine intervention." Cas commented.

"What?"

"Nothing." John elbowed the angel in the ribs.

The sheriff looked between the two of them somewhat suspiciously.

"So, you have witnesses and his written confession, yet he claims not have perpetrated the crime?" Cas asked.

"Yep. Nuts, right?"

"How were the victims murdered?" John wanted to know.

"They were beaten and then stabbed. Cause of death was trauma and blood loss. Why is the FBI interested in this? It's pretty open and shut."

"Perhaps not as much as you think." Cas informed him. "My partner asked you before if you thought that this seemed a bit odd to you. Because it should. We believe that these people are being influenced by an outside force."

"An outside force? Like what?" Lyman asked skeptically.

"A cult perhaps." John responded, not trusting Cas not to reply a bit more truthfully even though he'd ordered the angel not to. Dean had warned him that Cas sucked at lying and cover stories. "We've seen this before in smaller towns than this. Ordinary people drugged by religious nuts convinced that they are preparing for the end of times. Usually the body count only goes up from here."

"We don't have any cults around these parts."

"Of course you don't. They wouldn't touch the people in their areas. They send people out undercover to towns far away. Either way, my partner and I will need your files to look over and access to talk to the witnesses and the suspect. We'll keep in touch."

"I think you're nuts, but sure, why not." The sheriff leaned forwards and grabbed a few thin files from his desk and tossed them at John. "Knock yourselves out."

"Thank you for your cooperation." John nodded his farewell as they left the office.

They were almost out of the small station when they heard a voice call out behind them.

"Hey, hold up a minute, please."

Turning around, John saw a uniformed man approaching. He was in his thirties, fit with dark hair, a thin mustache, and a tired look on his face.

"May I help you?" John asked.

"You're FBI, right?"

"Yeah." John lied.

"I'm Officer Gregory Wells. Are you here about the four murders that took place recently?"

"Yes."

"I'm the one that sent the file in to the Bureau. Last I knew, we had been denied any kind of help. I'm glad your superiors changed their minds."

"Well, four murders, three turning to suicides, is certainly enough to catch our attention." John responded.

"Yeah. Look, it may be more than just the murder/suicides."

"What do you mean?" Cas asked.

Wells looked around to make certain no one was close enough to overhear them. "I can't say much. Sheriff Lyman already is looking for reasons to get my ass kicked off the force, but here." The officer handed John a folder. "There've been other people in town that've suddenly committed crimes outta the blue. Not petty stuff either. I'm talking robbery, rape, and assault. Then they either vanish, kill themselves, or claim innocence. Seven cases total, not counting the murders. This just ain't normal, not for our town."

"The sheriff didn't mention any of this."

"He says it's not connected. But then again, he's a moron." The last part was muttered under the policeman's breath, but still audible.

John chuckled. "Yeah, that was my professional opinion too. What's his problem with you?"

"My father was the sheriff before he was, and was a great man. A legend around here. This guy is an idiot and is trying to convince everyone that the only reason I got my job here is 'cause of who my daddy was. I swear he's actually happy about these murders because he's 'solved them' and is trying to build a reputation on it or something. As I said; he's a moron."

"So, I was correct in assuming that we won't get much help from him."

"Nope. If something more is going on with this case he doesn't want to know about it. And he certainly won't want the feds coming in and solving it. I'll pass along what I can, but just so you know, that might be limited."

"We'd appreciate anything you can do."

"And I'd appreciate it if you can help restore sanity to our little town."

"We'll do what we can." John shook his hand and then left the station with Cas close behind.

As soon as they were in the Impala, he turned to the angel. "Well, this makes no sense."

"How so?"

"Spirits are very predictable. They stick to patterns. If this guy killed his loved ones and then himself in real life and is possessing people now, that's exactly what he would do over and over again. The other stuff the officer mentioned just doesn't fit."

"Maybe it's unconnected."

"Maybe." John allowed. "But if we don't look at it from a preconceived idea of spiritual possession, it certainly does look like a pattern. Ordinary people with no history of violence suddenly committing horrible crimes. I'll have to take a look at all the details when we get back to Bobby's and then talk with witnesses tomorrow, but I have a hunch that this is connected."

"So maybe not a spirit, then." Cas commented.

"Well, I hope that that's not the case, because the only other thing that controls people and forces them to do crap like this is demons. And that's not something I want Dean anywhere near."

"Bobby doesn't believe demons are involved. And if they are, then we keep Dean safe in the panic room until this is over."

"Like he'll go for that." John commented.

"It won't be the first time I've had to fight Dean on something for his own good. He won't be happy but he will be safe. But perhaps it won't even come to that. There is still a chance that it could be a spirit. Or perhaps more than one. That would account for the change of motive."

"Cas, that's a brilliant idea!" John exclaimed, relieved to have an idea that didn't involve demons and possibly restraining his own son. "Or you know what, I've done some reading recently and I think I have another theory too. Witchcraft."

"It's possible."

"Yeah, but that would mean that we'd find some link between the victims. So, if not, we'll stick to the spiritual possession theory."

Cas didn't respond as John started up the Impala and drove back towards Singer Salvage.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Dean kicked a piece of scrap metal out of his way as he trudged through the scrap yard with Sammy just a few steps behind him. Bobby had sent him out to see if he could find an intact back seat that would fit a '69 Chevy Camaro. The young hunter had agreed to help, and his almost three year old brother has asked to tag along. If Dean had thought that adult Sam had perfected the pleading eyes, he'd completely forgotten how potent those eyes had been on a little toddler. Of course, now he got to play twenty questions with his little brother, only Sammy never stopped at twenty.

"But why you hafta?"

"'Cause it's important, Sammy. There's a lot of work to be done and Dad, Mom, and Cas can't do it alone."

"But I wanna play wit you."

"I know, kiddo. And I'll play with you when I'm not helping out. I promise."

"But Deeeeaaaannnn." Sammy dragged his name out into several syllables. It was an impressive display of whining.

"Sorry Sammy, but I gotta do it."

"But why? You li'l. Like me. You no work. You play."

"Doesn't work like that. I'm the older brother, so that means that I hafta work so that you can play."

"Oh." Sammy seemed to think about that for a while.

As the little guy was thinking it over, the boys walked in silence. Dean was scanning all the cars, looking for one that might work. This conversation was bringing back all sorts of memories from Dean's original childhood, back when Sam hadn't known the truth and had constantly questioned everything. Dean wondered how he was going to handle things this time around. He knew that eventually Sammy would need to know the truth, and not just about the things that go bump in the night. He'd need to know about Dean's past. But that would wait until… well, until Dean couldn't possibly put it off any longer.

"I think I found what Bobby needs." Dean announced, pointing to a car stacked up on top of two others. The make and model was right to have the proper seat. Dean just had to make sure that it was intact. It would be a bitch to get the seat down from there, but he was certain that his dad and Bobby could handle it. And since they'd almost made a complete circle of the lot, it was very close to the house so they'd only have to carry it a few yards to get it to the garage. Hell, if Dean had set off in this direction in the first place, he'd have found the damned thing within the first two minutes. "Stay down here while I climb up and have a look, okay Sammy?"

"Be careful." Sammy warned.

Dean chuckled. His little brother had definitely listened to their mother too much. But at least he had a mom to listen to this time around. The older boy grabbed onto the car and stepped up onto the bumper. Then he started climbing.

It took him no time at all to pull himself through the window and into the backseat of the old car. Dean grinned. Not only was it the right size and color, but it was in great shape. Bobby would be pleased. Dean had poked his head out and was about to call down to Sammy when he heard the Impala pull up. He watched as his dad and Cas got out.

"Don't mention anything about demons, okay?" His dad ordered.

Dean felt his blood turn to ice.

"I wasn't going to." Cas insisted.

"Good. No sense saying anything when we don't know anything."

"Agreed."

Dean watched the two of them disappear into Bobby's house. He hated the fact that the mere mention of demons could affect him the way that it did but it couldn't be helped. The black-eyed sons of bitches just unnerved the crap outta him nowadays. After all, the young hunter wasn't stupid enough to believe that just because Alastair hadn't made a move in almost two years that he was done with Dean. No, the demons were planning something. And when they made a move, it wasn't going to be pleasant. Yet, Dean had learned the hard way a year and a half ago that demons were opportunistic, and given the chance would abandon whatever long-term plans the higher-up demons were cooking up to try and make a grab for him. Was that what he'd be walking into this time? Was he going to be putting his family in danger again?

Dean was so deep in his dark thoughts as he was climbing out of the car that he lost his footing and fell to the ground, landing right in front of Sammy.

"Ah! Damn!" Dean cried out.

"Dean! You 'kay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The older boy responded, hopping to his feet.

"Booboo!" Sammy called out, pointing up at him.

Dean felt a sharp pain and looked at his elbow, which, sure enough, was dripping blood from where it had been cut on a piece of scrap he'd landed on. "It's nothing, Sammy."

"Kiss?"

"Once I clean it out, you can give it all the kisses you want, little man." Dean informed him. "Let's get inside, huh?"

"'Kay."

As the brothers approached the house, Dean took a deep breath and tried not to worry too much about the upcoming hunt. His dad had admitted that they didn't know anything. So maybe it wasn't demons at all. He guessed he'd find out tonight after Sammy went to bed. Then Dean would sit down with the others and they'd get to work on this case. No matter what it turned out to be, they'd find it, gank its ass, and enjoy the rest of their vacation.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **So, What's going on? Hell if I know. Just kidding, of course I know. And on friday you'll get some more theories too. Oh, and the action will start to heat up a bit... So please take a moment and leave a review. Thanks._


	58. An Unknown Enemy

_**Author's Note:** A third update this week! I'm awesome! And just remember, if I get mauled to death by hellhounds, there will be no future updates... Now, I'd like to thank Pizzapig, liebedero, guest, elfinblue, Crimsoneleven, angelofheaven001, Psychee, FireChildSlytherin5, Nourss, Knowledge is a powerful tool, Gustin azza, LilyBolt, if-llamas-could-fly, Nyx Ro, celestialstarynight, Mysterious Prophetess, LeeMarieJack, savannaaraiza5, Jasper6509, BranchSuper, AlElizabeth, transformers001, guest, RoseDragon666, and MeemeBear for their wonderful reviews. You guys are the best. _

**Chapter Fifty-Eight: An Unknown Enemy**

Dean flipped through one of the files, skimming the hand-written notes and the professional typed-up report. It basically offered no more information than his father and Cas had already told them. Then the young hunter thumbed through the photos. The victim, tied to a chair, beaten and cut to death. If the dude that murdered this chick hadn't been possessed, Dean would've said that he deserved far worse that hanging himself. But it really wasn't the possessed guy's fault. He was just as much a victim as his girlfriend. Which made this whole case sick beyond belief. Dean felt slightly nauseas and swallowed it back, hoping that no one noticed. Ever since Cas had brought him back into his younger body, certain things effected him that didn't use to. But he just ignored them and pressed on.

"Well, the murders seem pretty clear." Dean announced. "There's a definite pattern, which almost certainly points to spiritual possession. And we'd be looking for someone who, in his own life killed his family and then hung himself."

"Are we thinking a girlfriend or wife and kids? Because we have both types of victims." His dad asked.

"Wife and kids." Bobby answered. "Look, the last couple weren't married but the autopsy found that the girl was pregnant."

Dean nodded, ignoring the growing sick feeling. "Okay, so the only murder not involving a woman _and_ children then would be the first and that could be chalked up to inexperience. We've seen it before where a ghost gets something wrong at first."

"So now we just need to go to the library and research to find anything in the area that matches that description." Mary spoke up. "Dean and I can handle that tomorrow while John and Castiel are talking with witnesses. Maybe we'll luck out and have a body to salt and burn by tomorrow night."

"Maybe." Dean commented. "But it's the other stuff Dad mentioned that doesn't make sense. You mentioned robberies, assaults, and rapes?"

"Yeah." His dad pushed the other files towards him.

Dean grabbed the first folder and opened it. Upon seeing the photo on top, he quickly turned the page. Reading the details wasn't much better.

"This… this makes no sense. A college student that everyone liked suddenly rapes two women on the same night and then goes home and stabs himself in the throat? What the hell?" Dean threw the folder down and grabbed another. "A kindergarten teacher beats her coworkers unconscious for no reason and is now claiming innocence. Well, in her defense, it's a stressful job." He shrugged at his mom's disapproving look. "Three robberies committed by three separate people with no previous records. None have been seen since. A gardener attacks the people he works for with a garden hoe and leaves them for dead. They're in the local hospital in serious condition. The gardener was found dead the next day, his wrists slit to the bone. And last but not least, a shop owner pulls a gun and shoots up his own shop, including injuring three customers. Then he flees. Now he's claiming he never even went in to work that day. So I repeat; what the hell?"

"They do seem like they are under the influence of something." Cas commented.

"Yeah, but not our murder/suicide ghost." Dean replied.

"It don't seem likely." Bobby agreed.

"Cas thinks there might be more than one ghost." Dean's dad informed them.

"It's possible." Mary nodded.

"Not really." Dean commented. "Look, we'd need one other ghost responsible for the rape. One for the robberies. And the three assaults were very different so it's not likely they were committed by the same spirit, but even if they were, that would make three ghosts besides the one killing people. Do you know how unlikely it is that there are four spirits in the same town possessing people and driving them to commit crimes and then sometimes off themselves?"

Bobby sighed. "He ain't wrong. And I know what yer thinking, but it ain't a demon. While they may do this kinda stuff just fer fun, they'd also be leavin' signs. And I tell ya, there's no signs."

"Could there be a reason that so many spirits are suddenly possessing people?" Mary asked. "Something compelling them to do so?"

"It is possible." Cas answered, turning to Dean. "We've seen something similar. The Rising of the Witnesses."

"Of course!" Dean exclaimed. "I mean, obviously this isn't the same thing 'cause the Witnesses weren't possessing people, but you're right, Cas. The ghosts were controlled then. And there was that other time too. With Osiris. He was forcing spirits to kill the people responsible for their deaths." Dean closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to think about Jo standing there, forced to kill him against her own will. It didn't matter anymore. She was just a toddler now, still alive and happy. "It's possible that there's some sort of outside force here, raising or controlling spirits."

"Well tomorrow, while yer all out investigating, I'll start going through my books to see if I can find anything that matches up." Bobby offered.

"Sounds good." John agreed.

"If they are being controlled by something, are we going to have to do the salt and burns, or just go after the controller?" Dean's mom questioned.

"Depends on what it is." Dean responded. "I mean, the thing behind it, whatever it is, if it even exists, will have to be stopped or it'll just keep raising more ghosts. But who knows if that'll be enough to put the already restless spirits to rest. We may have to salt and burn the bodies of the ones that are already around as well."

"We will know more tomorrow." Cas announced. "For now, we should rest. You are looking unwell, Dean."

The young hunter rolled his eyes. Leave it to the angel to pick up on what he'd been trying to hide from everyone. "Yeah, I guess I'm a bit tired. We got in a bit late last night and I was up early this morning."

His dad clapped his hands together once. "Then let's all get some sleep."

After exchanging their goodnight wishes, the extended Winchester family went to their separate rooms. Dean flopped down on his bed, careful not to wake up Sammy who was fast asleep in the bed across the room. Cas sat down and placed a hand gently on his forehead.

"Where to tonight, Cas?"

"I was thinking that we could go bowling."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Whatever. It's your turn to pick, after all." Dean replied with a shrug. After a while he'd realized that it wasn't fair that Cas was stuck doing only the activities that Dean chose every night, so he had started a system where they traded off making the decisions. "But I'm not wearing the dorky bowling shoes."

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

The next day they took separate cars into town. Mary and Dean had gone one way to get to the town's library and while John had driven Castiel the opposite way. They had spent the morning questioning witnesses, but as noon was drawing nearer and their list was not dwindling nearly enough, the hunter had decided that splitting up was probably the most efficient idea. Castiel had agreed and had taken one of the long-range walkie-talkies they had brought to keep in touch. It was strange, before coming back to this decade with Dean, he had just gotten used to cell phones and now he was adjusting to not using them.

Castiel mentally checked another name off of his list. Next up was the neighbor who had seen Mr. Keller leave his girlfriend's house the night of the murder. John had gone to the police holding cells to talk with Mr. Keller himself.

The angel ended up walking past the street that housed the police station to reach his destination and was a bit surprised to see the Impala still parked there. Surely John hadn't been questioning a single suspect all this time? Castiel walked over to the vehicle and peered inside. Nothing seemed out of place, but he had a feeling that something was wrong. Using the spare set of keys he had been given, the angel opened the trunk and felt a sense of unease begin to creep in. The small emergency bag that they had begun to carry on all their hunts since the disaster a year and a half ago was missing. Inside the small black bag was anything they'd need if they were forced to face opponents from either side of the apocalypse: the colt, the knife, holy water, salt, and even a small jar of holy oil. For it to be missing indicated that there might be something big going on. But why wouldn't John have called him?

Just then, static rang out from the walkie-talkie. "Castiel? Are you there?"

"Yes. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. Sort of. I only have a minute. I'm with Officer Wells and just stepped away to contact you. We're in the sewers right now."

"Why?"

"I have him convinced of the cult story, but I think whatever's controlling the spirits is digging up and moving the bones so we can't salt and burn them. I found at least three bodies worth down here. Very old, too. I think some of the others might have been moved into condemned buildings around town."

"Do you know yet what is controlling them?" Castiel questioned, wondering if that was why John had retrieved the emergency bag. If it were a demon, they'd have to get Dean back to Bobby's as soon as possible.

"No. Not yet. But I'm not too far to the north of the police station and I need you to get down here. Give me about five minutes and I'll make up some excuse to get Wells away from here. Take care of these bones and then meet me by the car afterwards, okay?"

"Won't the officer question what happened to the evidence?"

"I'll think of something to tell him. Blame it on the cult, right? Damn, he's coming back. I gotta go, Cas. Five minutes, okay?"

The line went dead. Something seemed off. Maybe John knew more than he was saying. Or maybe something was affecting John. Or he was in distress. Or perhaps it was just as the hunter had said and the police officer was nearby, preventing John from disclosing any information. Either way, Castiel was going to go in carefully. That meant walking in rather than just transporting.

The angel appeared just below the spot he was standing and started walking quietly to the north. He reached into his coat and pulled out his angel sword. Castiel didn't use it much. On most hunts it would be considered overkill and if any other hunters ever saw it and recognized it for what it was, there would be many questions that the Winchesters would not be able to answer. But if John felt that he needed the emergency bag, then maybe Castiel needed to take some extra precautions himself.

The angel crept through the sewers, thinking over the current hunt. It was an ingenious plan. Raise the spirits to do your bidding. Have them possess people, commit atrocities, and kill their hosts, thus creating panic and possibly fulfilling some sort of ritual. All the while, whoever was in charge was gathering the bones of the raised spirits and hiding them to protect them from any hunters that might try to stop their plans. But who was behind it and what was their endgame?

Castiel slowed as he heard John's voice coming from close by.

"We can bring a team back later to properly record everything and take pictures of the bones. We've made notes and marked the area. Standing around longer isn't going to do anything but waste our time. You already said that you thought that factory was a good spot to search for more, so I say we check it out. C'mon."

The angel held still as he heard footsteps walk off. Then he slipped around the corner and looked around. He was certain that this was where he'd heard John's voice come from, but he didn't see any bones. Wait. There. On the ground was a large tarp that looked like the type he'd seen used to cover bodies at crime scenes. Castiel started walking towards it when a voice stopped him.

"Cas!"

He started to turn towards the sound of John's urgent voice, but something connected with his head. The angel went down to one knee, his sword falling from his hand and sliding a few feet away. Castiel blinked a few times and shook his head to clear his vision. He dimly heard someone strike a match and then saw a ring of fire form around himself. Fire set on holy oil. Castiel was trapped and his angel blade was out of his reach.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **And we're back to cliffhangers! You know you missed them... Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks. Up next... yeah right, like I'm going to spoil anything at this point! Just sit back and enjoy the ride! And please don't kill me. _


	59. Not Dad

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Now that I've shocked you all with that totally awesome cliffhanger, I can really get this hunt underway. However, first a WARNING: this chapter gets a bit dark. You have been warned. Now I want to thank Mizunou, elfinblue, MelodyPond-RiverSong, FireChildSlytherin5, deansass, AlElizabeth, celestialstarynight, Pizzapig, Gustin azza, Eliza Ghost, Nyx Ro, Hasmik Aharonyan, EllyKayWasHere, BlueFox of the Moon, Amara Rose 4 Ever, LilyBolt, laurie31, Mysterious Prophetess, if-llamas-could-fly, Invader Kiwi, cathernatural812, liebedero, samiam13, Silvermoon of Forestclan, angelofheaven001, guest, guest, Jasper6509, BranchSuper, VGiselleH, RoseDragon666, and Elise for their wonderful reviews. I do ask that you all read to the end of the chapter before swearing bloody revenge on me..._

**Chapter Fifty-Nine: Not Dad**

Mary's eyes were aching as she stared at the screen of the microfiche machine for almost the sixth hour straight. It wouldn't be so bad if she'd found even one lead, but so far the hunter had had no luck at all. She wanted to take a break, but the library was going to be closed tomorrow, so there was no time to waste. Mary reached into her purse and pulled out a granola bar. That would have to make do for lunch.

She looked over to where her son was sitting at a table going over old newspapers with his walkman blasting rock music into his ears at a volume that she'd continually told him was too loud. Mary had been questioned a few times about her young boy being in the media room with her, reading the papers, and responded that he was incredibly smart for his age and was working on a project for school to qualify to skip to the forth grade. The librarian had praised Dean and given him a lollipop for being such an intelligent and well-behaved child. And after all these hours, Mary was quite impressed that Dean was still behaving himself. Seven year old bodies were not made to sit still that long and Dean had only gotten up to use the bathroom or get more papers. Sure he sometimes fidgeted, made little noises, and once she had caught him shooting an elastic band across the room, but still, it was far better than she'd expected.

"Anything yet?" Mary quietly asked, after she'd waved her hand to catch his attention.

"I haven't found crap." Dean replied, slipping the earphones from his ears.

"Language, Dean. We're in public." Just because no one was currently in the room with them didn't mean they could let their guards down. He needed to act like a normal child.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. No, there's nothing that matches any of the things we're looking for. I'm starting to think that we're looking in the wrong direction."

"We don't have another direction to look." She reminded him.

"Not one we that want to look in." He shot back.

"There's no omens, Dean."

"Maybe the demons are just getting sneaky." He shrugged.

That was something Mary didn't even want to consider. Their conversation was cut off as someone walked into the room. She turned to see her husband entering. Mary smiled at him.

"Hi."

"Hey, honey."

"What's up?" She asked. They weren't supposed to meet until dinnertime and it was only time for lunch.

"I need to borrow Dean for a little while if it's okay."

"Why? I thought you were interviewing witnesses."

"Yeah. First off, I thought he could use some lunch. A cheeseburger and fries would probably fill him a bit more than a granola bar." He gestured to the snack that she was still holding. When he continued, he'd lowered his voice so that no one would be able to overhear them. "I think a kid in the area might've seen something and she might talk to Dean more readily than me. So, I was going to have him come along with me. I'll drop him back off here when we're done."

Mary thought it over. That approach had worked in the past and it would give Dean an opportunity to move around a bit. "If it's okay with Dean, then he can go."

"Sounds great." Dean hopped up and grabbed his backpack from the table. "See you in a bit, Mom." He kissed her on the cheek and then ran to his dad's side.

Mary waved goodbye to her husband and son before turning back to her work. She prayed that she found something soon.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Dean was thrilled to step out of the stuffy library and into the fresh air. He'd forced himself to sit still and concentrate on the research but to be honest he hadn't been good at doing that when he was in an adult body and being physically seven didn't make it any easier. It was like something inside of himself called to him to run and jump and just go wild sometimes. But of course he kept those impulses under control as best he could, letting them out while training and hunting so as not to come off as an actual child to the adults around him.

"So Dad, I was thinking we could try that diner we passed by on the way into town."

"Sure."

"Is Cas gonna eat with us?" Dean looked towards the Impala to see if the angel was there. He wasn't.

"No, Cas is busy."

"He's still questioning witnesses?"

"Yeah."

Something was off. Dean couldn't put a finger on what it was, but his dad was just… wrong. His tone, the way he was saying his words, the complete lack of affection in his voice, everything. And back in the library… Dad hadn't kissed Mom goodbye or ruffled Dean's hair like he usually did. Dean had learned long ago to trust his instincts and they were screaming at him that something was terribly wrong.

"Well, his loss. Guess it's just you and me then." Dean glanced around and saw that the street was deserted. Not unusual for a small town, but inconvenient if something bad was going to happen. His unease was growing and he really just wanted to get back inside.

"Just you and me, Dean." And there was something so sinister about the way that his dad said that. Or maybe it was just the way that Dean heard it because he _knew_ that something was wrong.

Dean did his best not to react. He walked forwards as if everything was fine but as he approached the Impala, the boy smacked himself on the forehead. "Crap! I left my notebook in the media room. And not the one that Mom's in. I gotta go back and get it. If that librarian reads my notes about the murders and ghosts and stuff, we're in trouble." Dean turned and started back towards the library. Towards safety.

He thought he'd pulled it off, that he was home free, up until he heard the footsteps right behind him. They were closer than they really needed to be. And Dean knew. He knew that he'd been figured out. So he dropped all pretense and broke into a run. But he hadn't gotten more than a couple of steps when something hard came down across the back of his head and pain exploded through his skull. The pavement rushed to meet him, but darkness greeted him first.

Dean jerked awake from his memories of Hell and the first thing he saw was Bobby's living room wall. And it was remarkably blurry. Wait, no. It was just his vision that was blurry. Why was his vision blurry? Oh yeah, getting hit in the head tended to do that to a guy. It was all coming back. But how did he get back to Bobby's house? And why was he tied to a chair?

Whoa! Back up there a moment. Dean looked down at himself. Sure enough, he was sitting in one of Bobby's kitchen chairs with his arms secured behind him by a piece of rope and his legs tied to the chair legs. A length of the rope was wrapped around his thighs and the seat of the chair, keeping them tightly in place. Dean struggled a bit, just on principle, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get free.

"Well, well. Look who's awake. Good thing I got you tied up so quick. Wouldn't want you scampering off before we could have some quality father/son time."

"You're not my dad." Dean growled out, looking up as his dad entered the room. No. It was as Dean had just said. If his dad was possessed by something, then whatever was saying and doing these things was not his dad.

Not-Dad raised his hand and smacked Dean hard across the face. "That's no way to speak to your father, you ungrateful brat."

"You're not my dad." Dean repeated. "You're just whatever is possessing him."

"Possessed?" Not-Dad laughed. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you? That I'm being controlled and that it's not the fact that I've just had enough of dealing with having such a pathetic screw-up for a son." Not-Dad punched Dean hard in the stomach, making the boy cry out and double over as much as his restraints would allow. "Think about it, Dean. I had a perfect life until you came back to this time and ruined everything." Not-Dad back-handed Dean across the face, splitting the boy's lip. "I put up with you for two and a half years now, but I can't take it anymore. I can't. You're ruining my life, Dean. We'll all be better off with you dead." Not-Dad kicked him in the chest and the chair tipped over with the force of the blow. Dean's head smacked into the floor. He let out another cry of pain.

As the boy lay on the ground staring at the ceiling, something occurred to him and made his blood run cold. "Where's Sammy? And Bobby? What did you do with them? If you've hurt them..."

"They're locked down in the panic room. It's nice that Bobby made it so that it can be easily converted into a prison if need be." Not-Dad grabbed Dean by his shirt and pulled him and the chair back upright. "I can't have them stopping me from dealing with you, now can I, son?"

"You're not my dad." Dean repeated.

Not-Dad rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to prove that I'm your daddy then, huh?" He went over to a shelf and grabbed one of Bobby's bottles of holy water. He unscrewed the cap and drank a third of the bottle. "Ah. Delicious."

"Wouldn't hurt a ghost." Dean shot back.

"Oh, clever little hunter. Or so you like to think you are. But the truth is that you're as dumb as a bag of bricks. Big disappointment. You know, it's actually a good thing that I got to meet you now. I don't have to waste thirty years raising you before realizing what a loser you grow up to be."

Dean tried to ignore the words. The spirit was just trying to get to him. But then again, maybe the ghost was reading his dad's real thoughts and using them against him. "You don't know me or my dad." The boy insisted, with more conviction than he actually felt.

"I _am_ your dad, Dean. And this will prove it." Not-Dad held up a container of salt. As Dean watched, the man opened the container and poured the condiment out and into his open mouth. A spirit would've been expelled by that act. But nothing happened. "See, Dean. No possession. Just a father who is sick of having a piece of crap like you masquerading as a son."

Dean watched in horror as his dad… no, there had to be some other explanation because his dad would never do this to him… undid his belt and pulled it off. Then he swung it and the leather strap caught Dean across his chest. The boy screamed in pain. The next blow hit Dean's legs. This time the small hunter bit down on his tongue to stop himself from making noise. That only worked until the fifth time when Dean couldn't help but let out an agonized sob.

His crying was echoed by a cruel laugh. "Aww, has the little baby had enough? Too bad."

Dean watched the belt drop to the ground. He stared at the object. It was a thin, black leather belt. Dean had never seen it before. His dad always wore a beat up old brown leather belt that was quite a bit wider. Where had he gotten that one?

Dean looked up at Not-Dad. "You're not my dad."

"You're in denial."

"Where's Cas."

"I killed him."

Dean snorted. "No you didn't."

Not-Dad smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. He walked over to the table and picked up Cas' angel blade. It was stained with blood. "Wrong again, kiddo."

Dean stared at it and felt the tears that he'd just managed to stop come to his eyes again. No. No, Cas couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. "No." He whispered.

"Oh yeah. Surprised him from behind, trapped him in a ring of blazing holy oil, and then, before I cut him apart, I let him know that I was killing him because of you. You got him killed, Dean. Couldn't have him rushing to your rescue." Not-Dad swung the blade and it sliced open a good four inches of Dean's left leg.

Dean screamed in agony. When he got his breathing back under control, he glared at Not-Dad. "I'm gonna get free and I'm gonna kill you."

"Kill your own father?"

"YOU ARE NOT MY DAD!" Dean screamed.

Not-Dad chuckled. Then he proceeded to punch Dean over and over again. The hits rained down on the boy's tiny body, each blending into the one before. Dean felt the impacts on his head, face, chest, stomach, arms, legs, every last inch of himself. After what seemed like forever, the man finally stopped. "Yes, I am. And you will show me respect."

"Screw you."

Not-Dad back-handed him across the face.

Dean spit out a mouthful of blood. "Sorry. Screw you, sir."

Not-Dad sneered at him and picked up the angel blade. Dean was fighting to stay conscious by this point. His head was ringing and he was in incredible pain. He was also trying to ignore the fact that it seemed like it was his own father that had done this to him. Sure, in his original timeline his dad had pushed him around a bit when he'd screw-up, or smack him for insubordination, but never would the man have done anything close to this. And now, in this timeline, his dad would never even dream of hurting him. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't, no matter how bad things looked right now. Dean had to believe that something more was going on. But what?

_Think, Dean. Think._ The belt wasn't Dad's. Dean looked at him again, through his swiftly swelling eyes. The pants weren't right, either. Too designer-looking. The shirt was Dad's, though. And so was everything else. The face, hair, eyes, skin… Oh, god! That was it!

"You're not possessed!" Dean blurted out.

"That's what I've been telling you."

"You're a shifter."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Yeah... uh, I DID warn you all that this was going to be a bit dark... I'm not even going to bother begging for my life as I know it'll do no good at this point... Just remember: I die and this story never gets finished and the shifter gets to keep little Dean. But please take a moment and leave a review and let me know what you think. I'll read them as I battle off all the hellhounds that you guys are sure to send my way..._


	60. I Scared

_**Author's Note: **I'm back! I was only mildly mauled by the hellhounds and other creatures sent to my door and thus was able to continue writing. I want to thank EllyKayWasHere, VGiselleH, angelofheaven001, FireChildSlytherin5, silversky13, deansass, Lady No Da 201, if-llamas-could-fly, numb3rs mystery, Invader Kiwi, Gustin azza, Hasmik Aharonyan, liebedero, celestialstarynight, LilyBolt, Jasper6509, being analytical, 4evrwithSirius, laurie31, Mysterious Prophetess, BranchSuper, silverskies87, AlElizabeth, shirleypositive72, guest, MeemeBear, xAnita88xx, Pizzapig, Kodokunatsuki, Nyx Ro, Uroboros187, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. Also I'd like to post a disclaimer: I am not responsible for any hearts that may break while reading this..._

**Chapter Sixty: I Scared**

Sammy pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his tiny arms around them, buried his head in them, and cried. But even his sobs couldn't stop him from hearing Dean's screams of pain. The little boy rocked back and forth on the uncomfortable bed. Dean was in pain. That wasn't good. Poor Dean. And he'd already had a bad booboo on his head when Daddy had carried him into Uncle Bobby's house before… before… Sammy started crying harder.

_Sammy had been sitting on the living room floor playing with some of Dean's old Matchbox cars when he heard the Impala pull up. He'd been surprised because he'd been told that no one was gonna be back until dinner and he'd just finished his lunch. Then the door had opened and Daddy ran in holding Dean like Sammy had seen Mommies hold their babies. Sammy had gotten up and saw blood in Dean's hair._

"_Bobby!" Daddy yelled. "Bobby, get your ass in here! Dean's been hurt!"_

"_Booboo?" Sammy asked._

"_Yeah, Dean has a booboo." Daddy said. _

_Uncle Bobby ran into the room. "Aw crap, what happened, John? He was supposed to be doing research."_

"_Let's get him patched up and then we can talk." Daddy said._

_Sammy tried to get close to see how bad Dean's booboo was. Daddy put Dean down on the couch. But when Uncle Bobby turned to walk away, something scary happened. Daddy picked up one of the smelly, green glass bottles that Uncle Bobby liked to drink from and hit Uncle Bobby over the head with it. Uncle Bobby fell to the floor and then Daddy kicked him in the head. Sammy had started to cry and Daddy yelled at him to shut up or he'd be next. Sammy then ran to Dean. Dean was sleeping on the couch and wouldn't wake up, probably because of his bad booboo, but Sammy knew that even if Dean was sleeping he'd keep Sammy safe. Sammy watched Daddy drag Bobby away and then Daddy came back and picked him up and carried him away from Dean. Sammy had cried and begged to stay with Dean but Daddy had carried him downstairs and had thrown him in this small, gray room. Uncle Bobby was sleeping on the floor with a booboo on his head and Sammy sat next to him crying. After a few minutes, Uncle Bobby woke up and said lots of words that Mommy always told Sammy never to say. Sammy had then gone to sit on the uncomfortable bed. He was scared. But he got even more scared a few minutes ago when he heard Dean start to scream. _

Now Sammy picked his head up long enough to wipe his leaking nose on his arm. Then he wiped his arm on his pants. Mommy always told him not to do it, to use a tissue, but he didn't have a tissue. Besides, Dean did it too sometimes. Dean. Dean was hurt. Sammy needed to be with Dean. He wanted to kiss Dean's booboos and make them better. And most of all he wanted Dean to keep him safe. Because Sammy didn't feel safe at all.

And something was bugging him.

"Unca Bobby?"

"Yes, Sammy?"

"Why Daddy hit you?" Daddy never hit people. Well, there was that one time that Sammy had tried to touch the stove and Daddy slapped his hand away and told him it was hot. But that hadn't given Sammy a booboo.

"That ain't yer Daddy."

Sammy didn't understand. "Yes he is."

"Nah. That's just a bad man. He's…" Uncle Bobby muttered something that Sammy could barely hear but it sounded like 'How do ya explain possession to a three year old?' and Sammy didn't know what he was talking about. But then Uncle Bobby spoke louder again "He's wearing a mask to make himself look like yer daddy."

"A mask? Like Hall'wee?"

"Just like on Halloween." Uncle Bobby said. "See the bad man did very mean stuff and now is hiding from the cops by pretending to be yer daddy."

"He hurt Dean?"

Uncle Bobby sat next to Sammy and put an arm around him. "Yeah, but don't worry. Dean'll be okay."

But then Dean screamed again. Sammy started crying again, even harder. "Dean!" He wailed.

"Yer brother's gonna be okay." Uncle Bobby said.

"I want Dean!" Sammy cried.

"I know, kiddo. I know."

And then Sammy heard Dean's voice. But he wasn't screaming in pain. He was yelling words. "Shifter! It's a freakin' shifter!"

"Sonofabitch!" Bobby exclaimed.

"What?" Sammy asked

"Shhh, Sammy ya gotta be quiet." Uncle Bobby told him. "I think Dean's talkin' to me."

"Okay." Sammy nodded. If Dean was talking to them, Sammy would try to be quiet and listen.

Dean's voice yelled again a moment later. "Dad's still gotta be alive! In the sewers! Ahhhhh!"

Sammy started to rock back and forth again as Dean's words became screaming again. Uncle Bobby pulled him into his lap and held him tightly. It was nice but Sammy would rather have Dean.

"Bobby!" Dean yelled. "Code lock box! Code…"

Then there was a loud noise like something had fallen over and more screams. Sammy started crying again. "Dean! Dean! I want Dean!"

"Code lock box?" Uncle Bobby asked. "What the hell, Dean. I can't do code lock box without you. I'm too damn big. We designed that escape hatch with you in mind. What are you thinking? Unless…"

Sammy looked up to see Uncle Bobby looking down at him. "I want Dean." Sammy whimpered.

"Dean, you can't be serious." Uncle Bobby shook his head. "But it might be the only way and yer hardly ever wrong."

Sammy wondered what Uncle Bobby was saying. "Unca Bobby?"

"Sammy, I need you to do something for Dean, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm gonna write a note and give it ta ya. And then I'm gonna show ya a special way outta here. It's kinds like the ladders and crawl spaces ya go in at the playground with Dean. Yer gonna go through and it's gonna take ya outside. Yer gonna wait until ya see yer mama's car and yer gonna go to her and give her the note. Don't let her come inside. Ya got it?"

"Come wit me?"

"I'm too big to fit in the tunnel, Sammy. You gotta do it by yerself."

"I scared." Sammy said, starting to cry again.

"I know, boy. But this is the only way to help Dean."

"Okay." Sammy bit his lip.

Uncle Bobby pulled a pen and small notebook out of his shirt pocket and started writing. Then he tore the page out and folded it in half. Uncle Bobby put the note in Sammy's pant's pocket. Then he moved the bed over to the corner of the room. Sammy watched Uncle Bobby climb up on the bed and run his hands over the wall. After a minute he removed part of it. Uncle Bobby had been right. The only two people that would be able to crawl in there were Dean and Sammy. But it was dark in there and Sammy was scared.

"Don't wanna go in there." He cried. "I scared."

"Sammy, if yer mama comes here, the bad man is gonna give her booboos too. And he's gonna keep hurtin' Dean. And he's gonna hurt you too."

"Why?" Sammy cried.

"'Cause he's bad."

"Don't like him. I want Dean."

"You do this, and yer mama's gonna be able ta get to yer daddy and Cas and they'll get Dean back fer ya. And Dean'll be so happy that I'm sure he'll even let ya sleep in his bed with him tonight."

"You think?" Sammy asked. He like sleeping with Dean. Dean would put an arm around him and keep him safe.

"'Course he will."

Sammy looked back into the dark tunnel. "Dark. I scared."

Uncle Bobby sighed. Then he snapped his fingers. "I got an idea."

Sammy watched as he pulled out a small flashlight and turned it on. Sammy grabbed for it.

"Light!"

"Not so fast, kiddo. Ya can't hold onto it and climb on out of here. Yer gonna need both of yer hands. Wait a sec, okay?"

Sammy nodded. Uncle Bobby took an old dirty cloth out of his back pocket and walked over to Sammy. He used the cloth to tie the flashlight to Sammy's wrist. Sammy waved his arm around happily. It was pretty neat. 'Awesome' as Dean would say.

"There ya go. That should help light yer way."

"Thanks, Unca Bobby." Sammy hugged him.

Uncle Bobby lifted the boy up and Sammy reached into the tunnel and grabbed onto the ladder. It was kind of like the stuff in the playgrounds but Sammy was never scared in the playgrounds. Dean was always with him there. Dean wasn't here now. Dean was being hurt now and Sammy was alone and it was a little dark and there was a bad man that had hit Uncle Bobby. This wasn't fun like the playgrounds were. But Sammy would do it for Dean. And then Dean would be better and would keep him safe and play with him and make everything better just like he always did.

"When you get to the top, turn the knob like a regular door and crawl through. Then wait in the bushes 'til you see yer mama's car. Run to her and give her the note. Don't let her come inside. Got it?" Uncle Bobby quietly called to him.

"Yeah." Sammy said.

He could do it. He was small, but so was Dean and Dean did stuff all the time. Dean went to school, and helped Dad and Mom, and fixed cars, and read, and took care of Sammy, and cooked, and was just great. So Sammy could do this. Sammy could be like Dean.

When the ladder ended, there was a tunnel to crawl in. Sammy thought it _was_ kind of like a playground. There were weird drawing in it, like in the room he was just in. Sammy crawled through and then had to climb another ladder. He was tired at the top but then the next tunnel was short and led to a little door with the doorknob. Sammy opened it and was outside.

The little boy sat in the bushes near the house and tried not to cry. He was tired and scared. But Uncle Bobby told him to wait for Mommy to come back and Sammy couldn't go back inside because of the bad man with the Daddy mask. Tears ran down his face when he heard Dean scream. Sammy put his thumb in his mouth and started to chew on it even though he'd been told not to do that. He was scared. Very scared. He wanted Dean.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Mary wasn't sure whether to be pissed off or concerned. John had never brought Dean back to the library and she was left to complete the research all on her own. Of course, the research had gotten her nowhere, so maybe it was a good thing that they both hadn't wasted their entire day, but still… And then, he'd not even stopped by to let her know that he was on his way back to Bobby's. When Mary realized how late it had gotten, she'd called the salvage yard and John had picked up. He'd apologized but then had gotten off abruptly and with no explanation. She'd tried to call back but no one had picked up. So, with a sigh and a few muttered choice words, Mary had gotten in the car and started driving back.

As she got closer to Bobby's though, she began to get a funny feeling that something was off. What if something had happened and John just didn't want to tell her over the phone? Or what if they'd discovered that it was demons after all? She'd certainly found no evidence that it was ghosts in all her hours of research that day. Mary's stomach was in knots by the time she parked the car in front of Bobby's house.

She got out and hadn't even closed the car door when she saw Sammy run out from the bushes and come right at her.

"Sammy? What are you doing out here?"

"Mommy! Don't go in!" He grabbed onto her leg. He turned his tearstained face up to her.

"Sammy, what's wrong?"

"Mommy, bad man. Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. The little boy handed it to her.

Mary took it from him and unfolded it. She recognized the writing as Bobby's right away. It read: _Mary, Don't come in the house. Shifter took John's shape. I'm locked in panic room. Shifter has Dean and will kill him if you come in. Go find John and Castiel in sewers. –Bobby_

Mary put a hand to her mouth. A shifter. And he'd taken John's shape. It had Dean. It took him from the library. She should've known. When he'd come to the library, John hadn't kissed her, ruffled Dean's hair, or done any of the normal John things. But she'd been distracted. And she'd let a monster walk off with her son.

Mary picked Sammy up and placed him in the passenger side of the car. She couldn't risk opening the backdoor and taking the time to strap him in. If the shifter caught on to what she was doing, it would come out to stop them and she had no weapons on her. Then she slid into the driver's seat, closed the door, started the car and drove off. She had to get back to that town as fast as she could. She had to find her husband and Castiel. Then they'd go back and rescue Dean. She thought about all the other victims and prayed that her son would still be alive by the time they got back.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. Up next... we'll check in and see how Dean is doing and find out if Mary can track down her husband. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought... each review brings Sammy one step closer to being reunited with his big brother. By the way, my panic room has no such escape hatch so don't get any ideas about trying to get to me through there..._


	61. Still Alive

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! I'm updating a third time again this week in the hopes that you'll all spare my life... on the other hand my plan may backfire and you may read this and decide to end me now... Oh well, it's a risk I must take. I want to thank LarissaCullen01, VGiselleH, celestialstarynight, laurie31, FireChildSlytherin5, latest-blooming-sakura-blossom, elfinblue, Eliza Ghost, Nyx Ro, MelodyPond-RiverSong, numb3rs mystery, Gustin azza, SerahJohnson, deansass, LilyBolt, Hasmik Aharonyan, Pizapig, guest, Kodkunatsuki, Knowledge is a powerful tool, savannaharaizah5, Mysterious Prophetess, liebedero, sara1988, AlElizabeth, angelofheaven001, Jasper6509, if-llamas-could-fly, andthenlarryruinedmysociallife, and RoseDragon666 for their wonderful reviews, death threats, and hellhounds._

**Chapter Sixty-One: Still Alive**

The sound of the car pulling up to Bobby's house made Dean's heart forget how to beat momentarily. This was it. His mom had just pulled up and either Bobby had understood and Sammy was able to carry out their emergency plan or in just a moment the door was going to open and everything would go even further to Hell.

"You hear that, Dean?" The shifter asked. "Your mommy's home. You know what that means? Your time is up. When she walks through that door, she'll see her husband with this knife to her son's throat. And I'll be holding your annoying mouth shut, so don't think you'll be warning her about what's going on. I'll tell her to step a bit closer and when she does, I'll take her down and tie her up. Then, I'll cut you into pieces right in front of her. Little Sammy will be next. And then I'll start on her. Maybe I'll have some fun with her first. After all, I _am_ her husband." He smiled wickedly.

"You're not going to lay a single finger on her, you sick bastard."

The shifter pressed the knife into Dean's throat, drawing a tiny bit of blood. "And who's going to stop me, screw up? You?"

"Hey, I'm not the one so pathetic that I have to hide behind other people's faces, loser." Yeah, okay, maybe antagonizing the monster that was torturing you wasn't the most intelligent move in the world, but Dean couldn't help himself. And calling the shifter out on what it was helped to remind the boy that this wasn't his father that was beating on him.

Dean could see that the shifter was considering beating him right then and there, even though any noise would potentially tip off his mom that something was going on inside the house, but then they heard the car door close and the vehicle start up again. A confused expression passed over Dean's father's features at the same time that the small hunter let out a sigh of relief. His mom was safe and the only way that she'd have known to leave is if Sammy had gotten out, so that meant that he was safe as well.

"What the hell?" The shifter left Dean's side and moved over to the window to look out. "Where is she going?"

"Away from you, freak." Dean replied, smugly.

"How did she know?" The shifter stormed over to Dean and grabbed him by his small shoulders. The monster shook the boy roughly. "How?"

"Maybe she smelled your nasty sewer stink?"

Dean got a punch in the face for his comment. He groaned and spit out some blood. He panicked when he looked down and saw a small red and white tooth in the puddle of blood. The boy ran his tongue over his teeth and was relieved when he realized that the tooth that had gotten knocked out was a baby tooth that had recently begun to loosen. He'd really have been pissed if the damned shifter had knocked out one of his two adult teeth.

"What did you do?" The shifter screamed in his face.

"Me?" Dean choked out through swollen lips. "Dude, I'm tied to a chair and being beaten by an asshole? What could I have done?"

The shifter stared at him. "You called something down to the other hunter earlier. You told him what I was and said code something. What was it?"

Dean glared at the shifter but said nothing.

"Answer me or I'll go down there and skin your little baby brother."

Dean smiled at the shifter but still kept quiet. The monster growled and pushed the young hunter so violently that the chair tipped over. Dean crashed to the ground. He cried out in pain as all his injuries seemed to be jarred at the same exact moment. From his new position on the ground, the boy watched the shifter turn and leave the room.

Dean tugged at his restraints and felt the back of the chair give. One more pull and the whole thing broke off in a rain of wooden splinters. It seemed that the shifter had been a bit too rough on Bobby's old furniture. Dean twisted and scrambled and a moment later he was free of the pieces of the chair and his still tied hands were now in front of him. Realistically, the boy knew that he stood no chance against the shifter, but he had to do something besides sit there and take more beatings.

Dean forced his bruised and battered legs to support his weight as he struggled to his feet. He was gasping for air by the time he had achieved even that small goal, but failure wasn't an option. His ribs ached and his head was spinning but Dean was determined to survive this. Maybe he could find a weapon? That would even the odds a bit.

Dean limped into the kitchen and snatched up a knife. He used it first to cut himself free of the ropes that bound his wrists and then held it out in front of himself as he looked around for a gun. That would be a much better weapon. He wished that he could just run out the front door and hide somewhere until help arrived, but Dean knew that the shifter would then likely just kill Bobby out of rage and the boy could never do that to his friend.

The small hunter heard footsteps coming back up from downstairs. He hid behind the doorway and clutched the knife tightly in his hands. It wasn't silver and thus wouldn't kill the shifter, but Dean didn't even care. He was going to fight the son of a bitch with all he had the next time the monster tried to lay a hand on him.

"So you conspired to get your bratty little brother out to warn your mommy, huh? You think that's going to stop me, Dean? She'll be back for you and I'll…" His voice stopped abruptly. Dean assumed that the shifter had noticed the boy's disappearance. "Dean! Come on out, boy! Come out now! You listen to your father! If you make me wait, it'll only be worse on you, boy!"

Dean rolled his eyes. Right, cause getting his ass kicked was incentive to go out there.

"If you don't come out right now, I'm going to go back downstairs and shoot the old man. You know I will."

Yeah, Dean had figured that. But there was some good news. The shifter had a gun. If Dean could get his hands on it, he might stand a chance. He could blow the shifter's knee caps out. That would slow the bastard down.

"All right!" Dean called. "I give up!"

He stayed hidden behind the doorway, hoping to lure the shifter to step close enough to ambush. He heard the monster come closer and tensed, ready to pounce. But then the small hunter looked down and saw a major flaw in his plan. A large pool a blood was spreading out from where he stood, adding to the trail he'd left behind from the moment he'd gotten free. Dean hadn't even realized that the gash in his leg left behind from Cas' angel blade was dripping blood the whole time. If the shifter noticed it too…

A hand darted around the corner of the doorway and snatched Dean's shirt. The boy let out a cry of surprise as he was dragged forwards and lifted into the air. He found himself at eye level with the monster that looked exactly like his dad. Dean narrowed his swollen eyes and stabbed the shifter in the neck. The thing screamed in pain and rage and threw the boy across the room. Dean hit the floor and rolled several times. He moaned and tried to push himself up onto his hands and knees. The first three attempts were miserable failures, and by the time he succeeded there were feet right near him.

Dean tried to crawl away but a snapping sound was the only warning he got before he felt the leather of the belt bite into his back.

"You'll pay for that, you worthless piece of crap!"

Dean was certain he was screaming but he refused to beg for the monster to stop. He had no clue how many blows he took before his body could take no more and darkness descended on him once again.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Mary parked the car a block away from the police station and looked over at Sammy who'd fallen asleep just a few minutes ago. She knew that she was going to have to take him with her into the sewers, but wished that she could let him get a bit more rest. The little boy had been through a lot. She was relieved that he didn't seem to be hurt at all, just very scared. He'd kept talking about a bad man and saying that Dean had a booboo. And he'd insisted that he wanted Dean. Mary promised him that they'd get Dean very soon. She prayed that she'd be able to make good on that promise.

On the drive into town, Mary had thought long and hard on how to find her husband. She knew that she didn't have the time to search through the entire sewer system. Then she remembered him mentioning that he was going to be heading to the police station first thing to speak with the only living murder suspect. Mary knew that by the time 'John' had shown up at the library that that had been the shifter. In between, there had to be time for the shifter to have ambushed John, shifted into him, set up a trap and somehow have taken out Castiel as well (or the angel would have shown up already), and then get to the library to take Dean. That would've taken hours, so the shifter would've had to have made a grab for John not long after they got into town, making it likely that he was attacked around the area of his first stop. So Mary was going to go into the sewers near the police station and check in that area first.

She got out of the car and knelt down by the manhole. With a grunt of exertion the hunter pried it open. Then she went around the car, opening the door and carefully extracting Sammy. Mary held him tightly and he mumbled something into her shoulder.

"It's okay, baby. Just sleep." She told him.

It was very difficult climbing down one handed, but Mary managed. When her feet touched the bottom, she released her hold on the ladder rungs and adjusted her grip on Sammy. Then she pulled out her small penlight and turned it on. She started walking through the tunnels, trying to ignore the damp, sticky air and the pungent odor. She was definitely going to need to bathe Sammy when she got back to Bobby's.

After she'd walked a little while, Mary saw a flickering glow coming from up ahead. Cautiously, she approached, aware that she was unarmed and carrying a toddler. The hunter prayed that the shifter was working alone because if she ran into any trouble, things were not going to end well. But when she turned the corner, her eyes widened and she let out a gasp.

Castiel lay on his side, curled up and bloodied in a circle of fire. He wasn't moving and Mary feared for a moment that he was dead.

"Castiel?" She called.

The angel stirred slightly and lifted his head. His eyes opened momentarily but then they slid closed and he resumed his unconscious state once again. Mary stepped closer to the flames. She knew that it must've been lit on a circle of holy oil. The area they were in was mostly dry and the fire would potentially burn forever if no one came to put it out. Mary looked around but saw no signs of her husband. Then her eyes found the tarp on the ground that was covering a human sized shape. Her heart started to beat faster. It wasn't moving. Maybe the shifter had killed him. No. The shifter would need to keep John alive if it wanted to maintain a psychic connection and access the man's memories. So her husband had to be alive.

She slowly walked towards the tarp covered body, praying he wasn't dead. There was always the chance that the shifter hadn't killed him right away but that the injuries he'd sustained had led him to bleed out in the hours since he'd been left behind. _Stop it!_ Mary scolded herself. Thinking up worst case scenarios wasn't going to help. She needed to uncover her husband and give him any medical attention he needed. Then she'd use the tarp to smother the flames around Castiel and she'd find out how seriously he was wounded. Then they could go and rescue her son and kill the goddamned son of a bitch that had caused all this in the first place.

Mary grabbed the tarp with her free hand and pulled it off of her husband's body. She jumped back in surprise as the man used his bound legs to try and sweep her feet out from under her. His eyes widened as he saw who she was and then narrowed in suspicion. Mary knew what he was thinking.

"No, John. It's me. It's really me."

He gave her a skeptical look, but the gag in his mouth prevented him from saying anything. Mary looked him over. His arms were tied behind his back and his legs were tightly bound. The shifter had used quite a bit of rope to make certain that the hunter wouldn't get free. John's jacket and t-shirt were missing, leaving him in just his jeans and undershirt. His hair was caked with dried blood, but other than that, he seemed unharmed. Mary approached him slowly.

"I'm holding Sammy, so don't attack me again. I'm going to cut you free."

When she got close enough, Mary pulled the gag from her husband's mouth.

"Why the hell'd you bring Sammy?"

"I could've left him at Bobby's with the shifter if you think that would've been better." Mary replied, taking her jacket off and laying it on the ground. Then she gently placed Sammy on the clothing. The toddler stirred and called out Dean's name in his sleep before settling again.

"The shifter's at Bobby's?"

"Yeah." Mary nodded and pulled out her swiss army knife. She unfolded the small blade and got to work on her husband's bindings. "I don't know the full story. The shifter came to the library looking like you earlier and took Dean. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Is Dean…"

"I don't know how he is. I got back to the house to find Sammy outside with a note from Bobby telling me that the shifter was in the house with Dean and that Bobby was trapped in the panic room. I was instructed to come find you and Castiel. I had no weapons to fight the shifter so I came here."

"You did the right thing." John assured her.

Mary nodded, but she still wished that she could've somehow have take Dean with her too. Leaving him behind hurt. She cut through one of the ropes and pulled it off. Damn. The shifter had used several ropes so that she'd have to cut through them one at a time. And each minute that passed seemed like an eternity. She just hoped that once John was free they'd be able to wake Castiel and that he'd be well enough to transport them back to the house to save Dean. If not, it would be another twenty minute hike and an hour drive back to the house and she doubted her son would be alive by the time their rescue party arrived.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **And we are one step closer to getting help for Dean... if he can just hang in there a little bit longer and stop pissing off the shifter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought and I'll try to get a chapter ready for Monday. Thanks. By the way... you guys didn't really think I'd kill off Cas, did you?_


	62. My Own Worst Enemy

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Hope you all had a great weekend and Happy Father's Day to all you fathers out there. I want to thank Pizzapig, MelodyPond-RiverSong, angelofheaven001, numb3rs mystery, liebedero, if-llamas-could-fly, guest, Irishred79, Lady No Da 201, LilyBolt, Nyx Ro, savannaharaiza5, Gustin azza, samiam13, celestialstarynight, laurie31, AshaJayPowell, Mysterious Prophetess, FireChildSlytherin5, BranchSuper, Jasper6509, AlElizabeth, VGiselleH, katsupotter, Eliza Ghost, and Sen2TOS9 for their awesome reviews. You guys are seriously the best! And you're helping me start a lovely hellhound ranch. (Oh, and 'reality', no one is forcing you to read my story, so if you don't like it, don't read it and if you're going to make fun of it, have the guts to log in so I can get back to you, thanks.) _

**Chapter Sixty-Two: My Own Worst Enemy**

Dean was desperately trying to claw his way back out of Hell. He was being pulled back in, being hung by chains with large hooks that pierced his skin and… no… no… he wasn't. This was a dream. It wasn't real. Cas had saved him from Hell. Dean needed to be saved again. _Cas, please save me._ But he couldn't. Cas was dead… _No_!

Dean jerked awake at that thought. The shifter. The shifter had said that he'd killed Cas. And then he'd come awfully close to beating Dean to death. Matter of fact, the young hunter was pretty damned surprised to be waking up at all. Even if he was waking up in a world of agony. What also surprised him was that he wasn't tied up in a chair this time. Dean could feel Bobby's living room carpet under his body as he tried to get himself to move. Wait a minute. He felt the carpet underneath every inch of his body…

Dean looked down at himself and saw that he was completely naked. "What the hell?" He mumbled through his swollen lips. His first thought was that it was some sort of intimidation tactic. Which was, in his opinion, rather unnecessary since the shifter could easily kill him, which was pretty damned intimidating in and of itself. But as the boy lifted his aching head and caught sight of the shifter standing a few feet away, he realized that there was a very good reason that all his clothes had been taken. He blamed his multiple head injuries on the fact that he hadn't thought of it before now.

Dean did his best to glare at his own childish face that was staring back at him smugly. "I get that you wanted to look handsome, but did you have to take all my clothes, you perv? I have a whole bag of clean ones upstairs. Wearing those is kinda unsanitary, dude."

The shifter laughed. "Right. When your family comes running back to your rescue, they're going to think I'm you. It won't be very believable if I'm wearing a whole different outfit."

"It won't be believable anyway, 'cause a douche-bag like you can't pull off being as awesome as me."

"Sure I can." The shifter insisted. "I've fooled so many people for years. I just delve into your mind, flip through your memories, and I can become you. Your parents won't even know the difference. Until I kill them, that is."

"Really?" Dean asked, struggling into a kneeling position, trying to ignore his nakedness. There was nothing he could do about it for the moment. "So you been in my head yet? You know everything about me?"

"Just skimmed the surface. And I know a bit from being your dad. But I'll get some more right now." The shifter stared at him.

Dean closed his eyes and concentrated hard. He didn't know if it was possible to send memories to a shifter, but he had to try. He forced himself to think about Hell. He thought about how the hooks dug into his flesh and tore through his skin. He thought about Alastair and how the demon would torture him. Dean focused on the pain of the razor cutting into him, the times when he'd be skinned, the organs removed from his body. He cringed as he recalled his flesh burning as the fires consumed him. Dean remembered having hundreds of dull rods shoved forcefully through his body and into the table beneath him. He thought about how Alastair had allowed the hellhounds to tear him apart and feast on his insides over and over again. As the memories consumed him, Dean let out a cry of anguish that he soon realized was being echoed.

The small hunter forced his eyes opened and saw the shifter was on his knees, clutching at his head, with a look of pure horror written all over his face. Dean wondered if that was what his parents saw when he himself was trapped in his memories of Hell. But Dean had an advantage over the shifter. He'd fought his way out of Hell before. The boy pushed at the memories and clawed his way completely back into reality for the third time that day. Gasping a bit, Dean got to his feet. Then he crossed over to the shifter and kicked it in the face with as much strength as he could muster. Which wasn't all that much, but it was enough to make the Dean-shaped monster collapse to the floor.

"You picked the wrong guy to copy, bitch. You don't wanna be me." Dean kicked it again. And again. But after a fourth kick, his bad leg gave out on him and the boy fell to the ground.

Dean groaned in pain and rolled away from the shifter, just in case the monster got its act together long enough to retaliate. His vision faded out for a moment and the boy knew he was in trouble. His body had been through too much and he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Dean needed to get his hands on a weapon. Or maybe the best move would be to go downstairs and let Bobby out of the panic room. But if the shifter snapped out of his Hell-memory-induced daze and came after him, Dean would be in trouble. Sure the freak was kid sized now, but it was still super strong and was probably still carrying a gun. A gun. Dean could've smacked himself in the head if it wouldn't have hurt like a bitch and probably have knocked himself out. The shifter most likely was still carrying a gun. Dean just needed to crawl over there and relieve him of it.

The boy made his way over as swiftly as his abused body would allow. When he reached the shifter, Dean reached into the waistband of his pants and felt the handle of the gun. He was about to grasp it when an elbow connected with his face. The young hunter cried out in pain as blood rushed from his nose. He fell back on his ass and then the shifter was on him in a flurry of fists and feet. Dean laid down, ignoring the pain in his back from where he'd been beaten with the belt earlier, brought his feet up, braced them against the shifter's chest, and pushed the monster backwards. The thing stumbled a bit and Dean rolled over to his hands and knees and tried to scramble away. He had no clue where he was getting the energy from to do all this, but he thanked God that he hadn't passed out yet. He was certain that if he did, he wouldn't be waking up again.

The shifter pounced on his back and Dean couldn't contain the scream of pain that slipped out of his mouth. Damn that hurt!

Dean struggled a bit but it was useless. He couldn't get the monster off of him. Then he felt the shifter's fingers wrap around his throat.

The monster's breath was hot in his ear as is practically snarled at him. "By the time your family arrives, there will only be one Dean Winchester left alive in this house and it won't be you."

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Castiel tried to open his eyes again to confirm what he'd seen earlier, but it seemed like too much effort. Besides, he could dimly hear Mary's voice and John's, so he was pretty certain he hadn't imagined… John… John… there was something about John…

Right! That creature. It had looked like John on the surface, but that had only been skin deep. Its soul… its soul had been hideous. It was dark, twisted, and deranged. Definitely not a spirit but not a demon either. Castiel had stared at the thing pretending to be John while he'd been trapped inside the ring of fire. Then the thing had held up the angel blade. Castiel couldn't remember the exact words it had spoken, but it somehow knew things that it shouldn't have known. And it took great joy in cutting the angel with his own weapon over and over again. Castiel thought the monstrosity would kill him for certain, but it had stepped back and laughed at him. Told him that he would play with him more later, if he survived his wounds, but that he had to go pay a visit to Dean. The monster that looked like John seemed to enjoy the fact that he could make an angel suffer.

Castiel didn't know how much time had passed since then. It had been a blur of pain and darkness. And there had been other things as well, far more disturbing than his own pain. The angel had felt terror and agony coming from Dean. His young friend was suffering in his memories of Hell again. Castiel tried to reach out to him but the angel was far too injured to make the connection. There was nothing he could do to help the boy. Twice, it happened, and both times Castiel wasn't sure whether or not to feel relieved when Dean's nightmares ended, because he was certain that his friend was probably waking to something equally horrific.

"Castiel?"

"Cas, can you hear us?"

The angel forced his eyes open and saw the Winchester parents standing outside the circle of flames. And their souls looked normal. Good.

Castiel must've blacked out again because the next thing he knew, hands were touching him, opening his shirt and pulling the fabric away from his skin and the still oozing wounds. The angel grabbed the person's wrist as his eyes flew open. Mary was kneeling over him, a look of concern on her face.

"Easy, Castiel. I need to see how bad these wounds are."

"They are bad, but not lethal." Castiel informed her, his voice coming out weaker than he'd anticipated.

"I thought angels healed quicker than this." John commented.

"These injuries were caused by my own angel blade."

"Damned shifter."

"Shifter?"

"It's a shape shifter, Castiel." Mary told him. "It can change its appearance to look like anyone and can even access the person's memories. Right now it looks like John. It's back at Bobby's house. Bobby is locked in the panic room and it has Dean. We need to get back to him."

"Are you well enough to teleport?" John asked.

Truthfully, Castiel doubted it. But for Dean, he'd try. "I'll try."

"Dean?"

Castiel turned his head to see Sammy sitting up on a jacket on the ground. Mary rushed over to him.

"Oh baby, it's okay. We're going to go get Dean now."

John cleared his throat. "Mary, we can't take Sammy back into that house until it's safe."

"What do you suggest?"

"Cas can take me back and you drive back with Sammy. By the time you get there it should all be over."

Mary shook her head. "No! You're hurt and this thing…"

"Enjoys torturing women and children." John finished. "You are not going in there. My head hurts a little but it's not bad. Besides, the shifter may have taken my gun but he made a huge mistake. He left that." Castiel looked at the black bag that John pointed at. The emergency bag. "We have the colt. It'll kill that son of a bitch just as good as silver. All I have to do is stand across the room and shoot him. But I can't do that if you and Sammy are there. Please, Mary. This is the way it's gotta be."

Castiel struggled to his feet, watching the interplay between the couple. He felt weak and was concentrating on drawing all his strength into one burst that he would use to transport himself and John back to Bobby's. He couldn't feel Dean and hoped that it was because the boy was conscious and not because he was dead.

"We should go." He announced.

John went over to the black bag and pulled out the colt. Then he walked back to Castiel.

Mary held Sammy to her chest and finally nodded to her husband. "I hate this plan."

"I know." He responded.

"Please save him." Tears began to roll down her face.

"I will." John promised, although Castiel knew that all three adults feared that it might already be too late.

"Daddy is Daddy?" Sammy asked.

Mary looked at him. "Yeah, that's Daddy. Not a bad man in a mask. And he's going to go get Dean."

Sammy nodded and buried his face in his mother's shoulder. It was clear that the little boy had been through too much that night.

"I'm ready." John placed his left hand on Castiel's arm and held his weapon with his right.

Castiel concentrated as hard as he could on Bobby's house; Bobby's living room. He thought about the place, how it looked, sounded, smelled, tasted, felt. He imagined himself and John there; wished them there. It was harder than most times. It felt as though he were being ripped apart, but there was a sense of displacement and a rush of air and when he opened his eyes he was there.

But the sight that greeted him was not what he expected. Castiel saw not one, but two Deans. One was sitting on the floor wearing torn and bloody clothes. The other was laying under the first one, sprawled out on the carpet and completely naked, his body covered in wounds. Dean number one had his small hands wrapped around Dean number two's neck. The clothed Dean's soul was hideous, just as the pretend John's had been, while naked Dean's soul was scarred but still bright and beautiful.

"Dean." Castiel said to the real Dean.

And that was all he got to say or do before the room spun around violently and the angel collapsed to the floor.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Help has arrived! You may all keep your hellhounds on your leashes now... please... So, a little unexpected twist here, huh? Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	63. I'm Dean

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! I can't believe that I'm still alive after all that I've put Dean through! I guess that gives me free reign to do whatever I want to him! Wait, no, keep those hellhounds on their leashes! I want to thank Pizzapig, deansass, angelofheaven001, FireChildSlytherin5, if-llamas-could-fly, VGiselleH, savannaharaizah5, PlainTrudy, HeddersTheOwl, numb3rs mystery, crimsoneleven, liebedero, Lady No Da 201, xAnita88x, Nyx Ro, Gustin azza, Tanokuya, LilyBolt, Sen2TOS9, Malallory, Mysterious Prophetess, BranchSuper, Jasper6509, AlElizabeth, Lelouch's right hand, Eliza Ghost, Mizunou, and RoseDragon666 for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I give you another chapter..._

**Chapter Sixty-Three: I'm Dean **

Bobby's living room smelled of blood. That was the first thing that John noticed upon arriving. He thought that it would be a relief to finally escape the smell of the sewers but to leave that scent only to replace it with the strong metallic odor of blood was actually worse. Especially with the knowledge that it was his own son's blood that he was smelling. And it was all his fault.

He'd let the shifter lead him into a trap. John never should've trusted that damned police officer. Officer Wells was too eager to help. And the lead about finding bones in the sewer was just too damned convenient. John shouldn't have followed him. But he had and the next thing he knew he was being hit from behind. Then he had found himself face to face with himself. And he'd just known that this creature was going to do to his family what it had done to all those other families. Finally, after all those hours of lying there, Mary had shown up with Sammy and John had been thrilled to see that at least the two of them were okay. But his fears were confirmed when she had told him that the shifter had Dean. His son was being tortured. Images from all the police reports flashed through John's mind as he'd prepared to go to Dean's rescue and he'd prayed with all his heart that the boy wasn't dead already. And then he'd arrived only to smell blood, and lots of it.

John heard Castiel say Dean's name seconds before the angel collapsed to the floor but the father could not tear his eyes away from his son. No, make that his sons. Because there were two Deans on the carpet of Bobby's living room floor. What the hell was he going to do now?

This was supposed to be easy. He was supposed to find the shifter looking like himself and kill the bastard before it could hurt Dean any further. He wasn't supposed to have to try and figure out which of the two boys on the floor was his real son and then shoot and kill the other. And what if he got it wrong?

Now both Deans were looking up at him. One of them was wearing his son's clothes, the same ones he was wearing that morning, only they were now torn and bloody. His hair was disheveled and his eyes looked a bit wild. He had a split lip and a few bruises on his face. That Dean was sitting on the other Dean, pinning him to the floor and holding him by the neck. The second Dean was naked and lying on his stomach. His back was obscured from sight by the first Dean. His hair was caked with blood and his face was even more of a mess than the first Dean's. His bare arms and legs were also covered in bruises. John stepped towards them.

The naked Dean spoke first. "Dad?"

The other Dean was quick to speak next, moving slightly so that his hands were no longer on the other Dean's throat. "Don't listen to him, Dad. He shifted into me. But I came to and managed to take him out."

"Really, dude? That's what you're gonna go with?" Naked Dean muttered. Then he turned his attention back to John. "I'm me, Dad. You gotta kill it 'fore it kills me."

"Dad, I'm Dean! This thing is the shifter! Shoot him!"

"Dad, don't listen to it."

"I'm Dean, not him." The clothed Dean insisted.

"You're really pathetic, you freak."

"Shut it!"

John watched as the Dean that was dressed in his son's clothes grabbed the other Dean by the hair and slammed his head into the floor. John winced.

"Stop that!" He yelled.

"It's just the shifter, Dad."

"I don't know that."

"I'll prove it. Ask me anything."

Naked Dean laughed. "Right, because it's not like shifters can't read minds or anything."

"Both of you be quiet for a moment." John ordered.

"Yes, sir." Both of them chorused.

John stared at them. They both looked like Dean. One wore Dean's clothes. It would make sense that that was his son and the other was the shifter, since if the shifter turned into Dean it would no longer fit into John's clothes and thus would be running around naked. Unless it stole Dean's clothes from him… okay, so using clothes as a way to tell them apart wasn't the best idea. The naked Dean was obviously more bruised than the other, so maybe he was the real Dean because the shifter would've been beating Dean… but if Dean got free he might've taken out his anger on the shifter and Dean was one helluva tough kid. They both sounded like Dean… The naked one was using sarcasm and just seemed more Dean-like than the other… but maybe it was a ruse and the other one was actually Dean and was just too traumatized to sound like his usual self. Maybe John was just over-thinking this whole thing… but how was he supposed to choose? Hell, how was he supposed to shoot someone that looked like his seven year old son? And if he was wrong…

"You," He gestured to the clothed Dean. "Get off of him."

"But Dad, then he'll attack me again. He's fast, and a strong, and…"

"And I'm the one with the gun, Dean."

The Dean nodded and climbed off of the other Dean, getting to his feet. As soon as the naked Dean's full body was revealed, John knew which boy was his son and he felt sick to his stomach. His son was a damned good fighter and would leave bruises and cuts on an opponent in a battle, but the raised and bleeding welts on the child's bare back could only have been caused by being whipped with a belt and that was something the real Dean Winchester would never do. A sadistic shifter on the other hand… John turned his attention to the clothed Dean and leveled his gun at him. This monster had beaten his son.

"Dad?" The shifter that looked like his son asked, pretending to be confused.

"I'm not your dad, you sick monster."

"It's me, Dean."

"No, you're not." John spared a quick glance down to his real son who was struggling to his hands and knees and backing away from the confrontation. John knew him well enough to know that Dean didn't want the shifter to try and use the boy as a shield or a hostage. John felt his rage increase as he saw even more of the damage done to his son. "You kidnapped Dean and look what you did to him! And I'm going to kill you for it."

The shifter suddenly dropped the act and an un-Dean-like sneer marred his young looking features. "No you're not. Because you can't shoot someone that looks like your poor, innocent little boy. No matter how much he's screwed up your life. Bet you wish you could though, huh? Boy, I've seen some messed up families in my time, but this one takes the cake, _Dad_. Everything was going just fine until Dean, I mean,_ I_ came along, right? You can be honest. I can take it. I know you hate me, Dad. So just go ahead and pull the trigger."

"I don't hate Dean. I love him." John insisted.

"No you don't." The shifter laughed. "I'm a pain in the ass. Who wants a son this traumatized? Or a son that's a freakin' sociopath that goes around slaughtering freaks in his spare time? I'm damaged goods, Dad, and you know it. So pull the trigger and get rid of the son that you consider a burden. Kill me, Dad! You know you wanna!"

John couldn't do it. He couldn't kill Dean. But then his eyes slid to the naked boy that was trying to crawl to him. The small, battered child shouldn't have had the strength left in him to have made it but was still trying. John made eye contact with his son, his real son, and saw the pain and determination there. The hunter took in all the many bruises, cuts, welts, and other wounds littering the boy's small body and he looked up at the shifter that had done all that to him and pulled the trigger.

John was certain that he'd never get the image of Dean's small body falling to the floor dead from his mind, especially knowing it had been his own hand that had shot him, but he didn't have time to think about it at the moment. The father ran to Bobby's couch, snatched one of the blankets off of it and ran back to his real son. Then he dropped down to his knees, wrapped the cloth around his shivering boy, and pulled Dean into his arms.

"I got you, Dean. It's over." He felt Dean tense up a moment before relaxing into him. "It's all over."

"Is Sammy okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, your mom's bringing him home soon."

"You should go get Bobby out. And get that thing out of here before they get back." Dean's voice shook, but he tried to get up, obviously determined to make John carry through with the plan rather than have him stay and give the boy comfort.

John stood, picking Dean up easily. "I'll do that. But I want you to stay put on the couch until I get a chance to look you over, okay?"

Dean nodded. "'Kay, Dad." He sounded exhausted. "But I wanna sit with Cas first. I just… he… the shifter said he was dead. What's wrong with him?"

"He was hurt with the angel sword, but he's still alive. I'll bring him over to the couch, but I want you to sit up there, Dean. You're hurt bad."

"You're telling me." Dean muttered, but didn't fight him on it any further.

John sat his son on the couch, wrapping the blanket tighter around his body. He kissed the top of the boy's head and then walked over to the angel. Grabbing Castiel under the armpits, he dragged him over and deposited him next to where Dean was sitting.

John purposefully didn't look at the body of the shifter as he walked past it. He couldn't see his son lying there dead. And Dean was right. It needed to be cleaned up before Mary and Sammy got back. But first thing first.

John rushed down the stairs and to the door to the panic room. He hesitated by the door, realizing immediately how it was going to seem to the older hunter. Well, hopefully Bobby would listen to reason.

"Bobby! It's John! The real John! I'm not the shifter. I'm sure you just heard a gunshot come from upstairs. That was me shooting the shifter. It's dead. Dean's badly hurt, so I need you to just put away any distrustful hunter crap and not attack me, okay? We gotta get back upstairs to Dean. I'm going to open this door and let you out now." With a sigh, John unlocked and opened the door. Then he stepped back.

Bobby came out the door and walked right past him. "Ya comin', John?"

"You're not going to try and make sure I'm really me?"

"Ya ain't the shifter."

"How do you know?"

"The shifter wouldn't ramble on forever like ya did just now. Now let's get ta yer boy."

John rolled his eyes but gratefully followed the other hunter back upstairs. Then he remembered that he had forgotten to warn Bobby about the shifter's body. He was about to yell out to the other man when a cry let him know that he was too late.

"What the hell! Dean!"

"That's the shifter, Bobby. I'm over here." John heard Dean call to Bobby.

"Jesus, boy! Ya took years off my life just now!"

"Sorry," John replied entering the room. "I should've warned you."

"Damn straight you should've." Bobby agreed.

John was going to say more, even though he wasn't sure exactly sure what he was going to say, but then everything seemed to catch up to him and he just sat down on the couch next to Dean. His hands started to shake and he clasped them tightly to try and force it to stop. A quick glance to his right revealed that Dean's whole body was trembling. If John's day had been difficult and harsh, then Dean's had been downright horrific. The father wanted nothing more than to put an arm around his battered son's body to comfort him again, but he was very aware that it had been his form that the shifter had used when it had tortured Dean and wasn't sure if touching the boy would do more harm than good.

Suddenly, the decision was taken from him when Dean looked up at him with tears collecting in his eyes. "Thanks for coming, Dad." His son leaned into him and John wrapped his arms around the child tightly, but carefully. He knew that he'd have to get up in a moment and take care of the shifter's body, and then he'd have to check Dean over and clean up his many injuries, but for the moment he was content to hold the son that he knew he'd come so close to almost losing forever.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Dean is safe! But does anyone know a good councilor for both him and John? 'Cause boy are they gonna need some therapy... Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	64. Wounds

_**Author's Note: **Hi Everyone! Dean is safe, the shifter is dead, no one killed me, it's all good! I want to thank VGiselleH, savannaharaiza5, angelofheaven001, Tanokuya, Nyx Ro, numb3rs mystery, Lady No Da 201, FireChildSlytherin5, Gustin azza, crimsoneleven, Hasmik Aharonyan, LilyBolt, xAnita88x, if-llamas-could-fly, Mysterious Prophetess, celestialstarynight, Pizzapig, BranchSuper, Jasper6509, AlElizabeth, Lori, Amara Rose 4 Ever, liebedero, Eliza Ghost, and RoseDragon666 for their awesome reviews. Oh, and I asked about therapy for the Winchesters and got all kinds of suggestions ranging from Missouri to Alastair(really?) but one of you was actually right! Read on to find out who (although, no, the family will not be sitting down for actual therapy). Also, I hate to have to say this, but thanks to 'reality' and her rudeness, all annonymous reviews that are mean and nasty will be deleted, so don't bother wasting my time or yours. _

**Chapter Sixty-Four: Wounds**

Dean watched silently as his father and Bobby wrapped up the body of the shifter in an old cloth tarp that the older hunter had brought in from outside and tied it up with some rope. They were going to take it out back and leave it there to be burned later. Dean pulled the blanket a little tighter around himself. He'd convinced his dad to run upstairs and grab his bag of clothes so that Dean could take out a pair of underwear to put on. He'd been told that he wasn't allowed to get completely dressed until his injuries were looked over and taken care of, but he sure as hell wasn't going to remain totally naked. It was bad enough that his dad had seen him completely exposed, but he wasn't going to be giving his mom, Bobby, or Sammy the same show. Besides, after the day he'd just had, any small amount of protection he could get was a relief. Thus the tightening of his blanket.

Dean glanced back down to where Cas was lying on the floor. The angel looked like crap. He had several deep cuts covering his torso and arms. Dean knew that they had been made with the angel blade and were going to take time to heal, but he was just relieved that his friend was alive. They'd somehow all made it through this; not necessarily in one piece but they were alive and that had to count for something.

The sound of the door closing behind his dad and Bobby made Dean jumped and his injuries made themselves known once more. The small hunter moaned in pain. He was trying not to let the others see how much agony he was in, but now that he was alone in the room, the boy curled in on himself and rested his head on his knees. A few stray tears leaked from his eyes. God, everything hurt. Dean didn't think that the shifter had missed a single inch of his body when it had beaten him. While he'd been tied to the chair, his back had been spared from the many blows, but once he'd gotten free, the monster had taken the belt to it and now it was one of the more painful areas. Damn shifter. Dean really hated shifters. Every single time they showed up, his life seemed to go into the toilet. Oh, well. At least this time he wasn't being accused of murder.

"Dean?"

"Cas? You okay?" Dean asked, picking his head up to look at his friend.

"No. But I will heal. And you?"

"Same answer." Dean smiled.

The angel's eyes were barely open as he stared up at the boy, and Dean had a feeling that Cas wouldn't be awake for too long.

"You're soul looks beautiful."

"Uh… thanks?"

"The shifter's… it was dark… hideous… not like you…"

"Well, he was an ass." Dean shrugged. And damn, but that small motion hurt. "You wanna lay down on the couch? Lot more comfortable than the floor."

"I don't believe I can get up there on my own.' Cas confessed.

"Oh. Well, I won't be much help." Dean looked around and then grabbed a throw pillow from the couch. He carefully got up and knelt down by his friend. "Can you lift your head?" When the angel did as he was asked, Dean shoved the soft item under his head. Then he pulled the second blanket down and tossed it over Cas' body. "There. Not the best, but…"

"Thank you, Dean."

"Don't mention it." Dean climbed stiffly back onto the couch. "Thanks for bringing Dad to rescue me. He arrived just in time."

They sat in silence after that, until the door opened and Dean's dad and Bobby walked back in. Dean looked up at them and smiled weakly. He tried to ignore the way that his heartbeat quickened a bit every time he saw his dad. Intellectually, he knew that it had been the shifter, not his father that had spent the better part of the day torturing him, but still his body was reacting poorly to the sight of his own dad and he couldn't help it. But Dean was determined to hide it so that he didn't make the man feel bad. Besides, it wasn't that bad once he got used to it. He'd even felt comfortable leaning against his dad earlier. It was mostly just when the man first entered the room.

"Hey, Dad. Cas is awake."

"Really? He doesn't look it."

Dean looked down and saw that Cas was out once more. But at least this time the angel looked asleep instead of unconscious or dead.

"Well, he was." Dean insisted.

"Sure." Bobby replied with fake sarcasm. "Ya probably just imagined the whole thing 'cause ya got hit in the head a bit too hard."

"I'm not the senile one, old man." Dean shot back with a grin.

"Enough, you two." His dad interrupted, stepping forwards. When he reached the couch, he held out his hand. "Got something you might want back."

Dean knew what it was immediately and could've kicked himself for not retrieving it himself.

"Thanks, Dad." He took his necklace back and held it tightly for a moment before putting it back around his neck. Now he felt slightly less naked.

"Okay, Dean, I gotta check you over. Lose the blanket."

And now the slightly less naked feeling was gone. Dean shrugged the blanket off. He heard Bobby let out a gasp as the older man must've seen the bruises, cuts, and other marks that painted the young hunter's chest, stomach, and limbs. Dean wondered what his reaction would be when he saw his back. The boy knew from the level of pain that the whip marks from the belt were far worse there than they were on his chest and legs. And if his dad and Bobby were making such a big deal over his injuries, he knew that his mom was going to really freak out when she got back. And through it all, Dean was trying his best to pretend that none of it was as bad as it really was so as not to make them even more concerned. Some days his life really sucked.

Dean hissed as his dad pressed on his ribs. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I have to see if anything is broken, Dean."

"Warn a guy next time."

"I did. You must not have been listening."

"Oh." Dean bit down on his lip and groaned. His father's hands moved up and pressed harder and Dean tried to get away from the agony.

"Hold still, son. I'm almost done."

A large hand held him in place by his shoulder while the other went back to his ribs and when Dean felt one of them shift, he panicked and screamed. "No! Stop! Leave me the hell alone!" He batted at his dad and even though there wasn't much force behind his blows, his father released him and sat back.

"Dean, relax. It's me. It's just me. I'm trying to help."

Dean felt dangerously close to hyperventilating and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. "I can't… I can't do this right now. Sorry."

"No, it's okay, Dean. I understand. I'm sorry. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose."

Dean stared at him and forced himself to see his dad and not the shifter. "I know."

"I'll give you a few minutes but then I'm going to need to wrap up your ribs. I think only one is broken but you probably have a few hairline fractures as well and we can't risk any of them getting worse. Then I'll get your leg stitched up. Afterwards, I'm going to have to look at your back. Some of the… those wounds were bleeding as well. When I'm done we can ice the bruises, and you can get some rest."

Dean nodded, trying to control his building panic. He really didn't want to be touched at that moment. "Can't all this wait 'til morning? My ribs aren't going anywhere and I'm not gonna bleed to death through my leg or back…"

"No, Dean. Your rib needs to be secured unless you want a possible punctured lung. And that would mean a trip to the hospital."

"Yeah, that wouldn't be a good idea right now." Dean mumbled.

"No, it wouldn't." His dad agreed.

Dean took a deep breath. If he couldn't get out of the medical crap tonight, he might as well stop looking like a baby in front of his father and Bobby and get it over with. "Fine, let's do it then."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Just… can you start with the leg first?"

"No problem."

Dean leaned back against the couch as his dad applied the local anesthetic to the area around the gash on his leg. Once the icy feeling gave way to blessed numbness, the boy watched as his father stitch up the wound. Yep, that would be yet another scar.

Dean had just gotten into position for his father to work on his back when the front door opened.

"We're back." Dean heard his mom announce.

Dean looked back at his dad in concern. His mom could've just walked into a trap. She should've known better. As of reading his mind, his father smiled down at him.

"I left the colt on the porch with a note saying that everything was okay. The shifter never would've done that."

Dean nodded. He turned his head just in time to see his mom enter the room holding Sammy in her arms. The toddler started squirming as soon as his eyes found his big brother.

"Dean!"

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean smiled.

Dean's mom placed the little boy on the floor and then rushed over to the couch herself. She had tears gathering in her eyes as she placed a gentle hand on his face.

"Oh, sweetie." She didn't seem to know what else to say.

Sammy got up on the couch and Dean sat up and swung his legs off the side so that his little brother could get close to him without actually climbing on him.

"Lot of booboos, Dean." Sammy started pointing out all of Dean's injuries. "Kisses?"

Dean laughed. "We'll be here all night if you plan on kissing them all, little dude. How 'bout you give me one big kiss and it'll make 'em all better?"

"'Kay." Sammy nodded, before leaning forwards and placing a sloppy kiss on the older boy's cheek.

"Wow!" Dean exclaimed. "All the pain is gone. Thanks, Sammy."

"Love you, Dean." Sammy hugged him a bit too tightly and Dean bit down on his lip to keep from crying out.

Luckily, his parents saw his expression and quickly stepped in. "Hey Sammy, it's been a long night for everyone." His dad announced. "I think we should get some food made, eat a quick bite, and get to bed. Sound good?"

"Pea-butter and jelly!" Sammy hopped off the couch and took off for the kitchen.

"I got it." Bobby volunteered.

Dean watched the older hunter leave and then turned his attention to his parents, who were both giving him concerned looks.

"I'll be fine." He assured them.

"What happened?" His mom asked.

Dean looked to make sure that Sammy was out of earshot, then he shrugged. "Shifter beat the crap outta me, then Dad killed it. End of story."

His mom held his chin in her hand and turned his head to get a look at the damage done to his face. Dean squirmed a bit under her close scrutiny. Then her gaze traveled down his body and she gasped. "What did that?"

"A belt would be my guess." His dad answered. "He's got similar, but worse, marks on his back."

His mom looked furious. "I wish it was still alive so that I could kill it."

Dean shrugged again. "Look, it's all over with. Can I just finish getting patched up so I can rest." He felt a bit bad for being rude when his parents were just being concerned about him, but the attention was making him feel uncomfortable and was reminding him that he'd failed. The shifter had captured and tortured him and he hadn't been able to escape and he'd allowed the monster to beat him and hadn't been able to fight back very well. Dean figured that he deserved everything he'd gotten.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

He looked up at his mom. "What?"

"The look on your face just now… what were you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"Dean…"

"Just… it's nothing."

His dad sighed. "I know you went through a lot today, Dean, but we're here for you if you need to talk about anything."

"Fine, how about we talk about the fact that the shifter was right. I'm damaged goods. More so now than ever. And I know I screwed up today, okay? So just… I can't… please just give me a moment." Dean hopped up off the couch, accidently stepping on Cas' hand as he did so. He grabbed a pair of jeans from his bag and pulled them on, wincing as they rubbed against his bruises. The young hunter left them sitting low on his hips, but still they brushed against the bottom of some of the raised welts on his back, causing him excruciating pain. He expected his parents to try and stop him, but his outburst seemed to have taken them by surprise and left them both speechless. Dean took advantage of the situation and took off for the front door. "I'm not going anywhere." He announced, not wanting them to get concerned. "I just… I need some air." He'd been tortured in this room and needed to get out to be able to think clearly. To maybe get the shifter's words out of his head, where they'd been echoing around since they'd been spoken.

Dean flung the door open and took a step out only to run straight into a person that was standing on the porch. The boy let out a yelp of surprise and fell back into a defensive position. In his condition, he'd never be able to take out an opponent, but maybe he'd last long enough for help to arrive. Or he'd screw up again and die pathetically.

But then Dean looked up into a familiar, yet terribly young (at least to him), face.

"Pastor Jim?" He gasped in surprise.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Another surprise guest! But this one's not seeing the Winchesters at their best... Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Also, I have plans for a hunt (after a couple of chapters downtime and a timejump) but it is another kind of dark, rather violent hunt (not necessarily torture, though. It's completely different). Would you guys like that next, or would you rather have a regular hunt stuck in between? I'm planning it out now, so please give an opinion if you got one, thanks._


	65. Lost Sheep or Lone Wolf

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Hope you all are doing well. I'm fine... except for all the bite marks left behind by various hellbeasts... But I'd like to thank EllyKayWasHere, jokergirl94, angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, Lady No Da 201, savannaharaiza5, numb3rs mystery, roy23, Tanokuya, if-llamas-could-fly, FireChildSlytherin5, deansass, Amara Rose 4 Ever, Pizzapig, Nyx Ro, Eliza Ghost, LilyBolt, Mysterious Prophetess, Gustin azza, RoseDragon666, No more darkness, celestialstarynight, liebedero, Jasper6509, angel de acuario, MeemeBear, lengzers, guest, drsummers, AlElizabeth, crimsoneleven, Titanium Heartache, Leoooo, MusicLover19, XdarkkissX, and Star-Simple-Dust for their awesome reviews. You guys are the best!_

**Chapter Sixty-Five: Lost Sheep or Lone Wolf **

Pastor Jim Murphy knew that he was arriving a bit late at Bobby Singer's residence, but it wouldn't be the first time that he'd stayed overnight with a hunter without calling ahead. And at least Bobby had spare rooms so the pastor wouldn't find himself spending the night on the floor in a sleeping bag. He'd been driving all day on his way back from helping out with a double exorcism and Singer Salvage was close by. Besides, he had some old texts and manuscripts that he'd been meaning to drop off with the hunter for months now and it seemed like an opportune time.

He parked his car at the end of the drive and walked up, noticing a few cars close to the house. Jim wondered if Bobby had company or if he was just backed up with work. The man had a tendency to take on more repair projects than he could handle some days. But the black Impala at least seemed to be in pretty good condition. Well, on the outside anyway. Jim knew next to nothing about cars, but he did know that, like people, sometimes their appearance looked good but inside they were either broken or hiding dangerous problems that could injure those around them.

The pastor walked up the front steps and was about to knock on the door when it was flung open and a small blur ran out and right into him. The man stepped back in surprise as the child did the same. Jim looked down at the boy and gasped. The youngster couldn't have been older than six or seven years old and was in terrible condition. He'd seen horribly abused children in his line of work, but none in a worse state than this boy. His short, spiky hair looked to be normally a dark blonde color but was now matted with dried blood, portions of it seemingly almost red. His green eyes were swollen to mere slits, his nose was cut, as was his cheek bone, his lips were swollen and split, and the rest of his young face was a mass of bruises. The boy was shirtless, showing off even more dark bruises and cuts. Jim's gaze dropped to the child's bare feet, one of which was painted with dried blood. The pastor was still studying the beaten boy when the kid spoke.

"Pastor Jim?"

Jim blinked. How did this child know who he was?

"Who are you, young man?" He asked.

In seconds, a man was behind the boy. The child jumped as the man's hand came down on his shoulder. The pastor tensed, not liking the situation at all.

"Dean." The boy answered. "I'm Dean."

"I'm his father, John. And you are."

"Pastor Jim Murphy." Jim responded.

"He's a friend, John." Bobby came to the door. "A friend who apparently can't call before he just shows up on my porch."

"Sorry, Bobby." Jim apologized, trying to assess the situation. "I was in the area and was hoping for some hospitality. Is this a bad time?"

"Yes." John answered.

"No." Dean replied.

"It's my damned house, can I answer the question?" Bobby grumbled.

Jim looked between John and Dean. It certainly seemed as though Dean was being abused by his father, but if that were the case, surely Bobby would pick up on it, so why wasn't the other man doing anything about it?

Without waiting for an invitation, Jim stepped into the house, ignoring the looks he was getting from John. A woman stood not far behind, and a younger child sat at Bobby's table eating a sandwich. This child didn't have a mark on him. Jim looked closely and saw that both John and Bobby seemed to have sustained head injuries.

"You get in a fight, Bobby?' He asked casually.

"The bad man hurt him." The little boy at the table answered.

"It's nothing." Bobby replied dismissively. "Pastor Jim, these are the Winchesters. John, Mary, Dean, and Sammy. Oh and Cas is sleeping on the floor over there. He's Mary's brother."

"Pleasure to meet you all. But it seems that this young man already knows me." He looked down at Dean. "You knew my name somehow…" He prompted.

"Bobby talks about you." Dean explained.

Jim didn't believe him for a single moment. "Uh huh."

"So, what can I do for you, Jim?" Bobby asked.

"I have some books for you out in the car and was hoping for a place to stay the night. And a look at my car in the morning, if it wouldn't be too much trouble. The breaks haven't seemed right for the last few miles."

"Well, the rooms are all taken right now, but I can't send you out on the road with bad breaks. Getting' a preacher killed in a car crash is a one way trip ta Hell fer sure." Bobby commented. "If ya don't mind the couch, yer welcome ta stay."

"I've had worse accommodations." Jim admitted.

"Okay, then." Bobby nodded.

To say that there was tension in the room would be a gross understatement. John was giving him death glares, Dean was staring at Jim as though he somehow knew him, Bobby was grumbling under his breath, Sammy was eating all while staring at his big brother as though he didn't want to ever let the older boy out of his sight, Mary was also looking at Dean but with a sad expression on her face, and Cas was still sleeping on the living room floor. Jim was beginning to wonder if stopping by the Singer house was a good idea. But if he could maybe help this family, then it'd be worth whatever discomfort he was feeling and causing. So the pastor decided to trust that God had His reasons for directing him to stop here on this night.

Dean looked at his dad and whispered. "It's okay. He's okay."

"Dean…" His dad said warningly.

"I know." The boy murmured back. "I'm not gonna tell him."

Jim could just make out the words, and pretended that he didn't hear the exchange. He wanted to get the boy alone. Dean had practically asked the pastor to stay so maybe the child would open up and ask for help if given the opportunity.

"Hey Dean, you like to read?"

The boy shrugged, then winced in poorly concealed pain. "I guess."

"Great. I have some paperbacks out in my car too. Donations. Why don't you come on out with me and take a look. You can pick some out for yourself."

The boy's beaten face brightened as a grin lit up his features. "Sounds great."

"Come on then."

"I don't know…" Mary stepped forwards. "He's not feeling too well."

"Jim'll keep an eye on him." Bobby assured her.

"I sure will." Jim nodded. He led the boy back outside.

As they walked down off the porch, Jim noticed that Dean kept glancing up at him with a strange look on his face. It was a look that one would give to an old friend that they hadn't seen in a long time. Strange. Maybe the boy was just very religious and was comforted by his presence. But when Dean stepped slightly in front of him, Jim caught a glimpse of the boy's back and felt like crying when he saw the extreme damage that had been inflicted on the boy so very recently.

"So, what happened, young man?"

"What?"

"You're hurt."

"Wow, you're observant. If the whole pastor thing doesn't work out, maybe you can become a detective."

Jim laughed. "That's quite a use of sarcasm. Can get you in trouble sometimes."

Dean smiled. "Sometimes."

"That what happened this time?"

The boy shrugged again. "Not really. I mean, my big mouth certainly never helps the situation, but this time I wasn't to blame. Well, not completely, anyway."

The way he said it made Jim sad. "Dean when other people hurt you, you're never to blame."

"You only say that 'cause you don't know me yet." Dean muttered. But then a strange look crossed his face. "Oh, wait… dude, no! You think… Oh, man! No, this… I wasn't… no one in that house did this to me."

Pastor Jim sighed as they reached his station wagon. He popped the back open and turned to face the battered child. "Then you won't mind telling me what happened?"

Dean looked up at him and Jim swore that he'd never looked into a pair of eyes that were more haunted that the ones belonging to the little boy he now faced. "My life's crap."

And the child honestly believed that. "Dean, things may seem bad sometimes, but there is always hope."

"Unless your name happens to be Dean Winchester."

Jim sat down inside the back of his station wagon, his feet resting on the gravel driveway, and motioned for the boy to join him. He was a bit surprised when he was taken up on his invitation. "You know, Dean, you're life doesn't have to be filled with pain. If someone is hurting you, you can tell me."

"I already told you that it wasn't anyone in that house."

"Then who did all this. And please don't say you fell down the stairs." That was a favorite lie that abused children used.

Pastor Jim was ready to hear Dean tell him that it was a kid a school. Or that he got jumped by some strangers on the playground. Maybe even an older cousin. Any cover story to clear his father's name. Well, any cover story besides what he got.

"It was a shifter."

"A what?"

"A shifter. You know, a shape shifter? Those freaky bastards that shed their skin so that they can take on anyone's appearance?"

"A shape shifter?" Jim had heard of them, he was just surprised that Dean had and was blaming his injuries in one of them.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Bobby called us out here to help with a salt and burn, only it turned out not to be that simple. Never is, in my life. Was a shifter, and the freak got his damned hands on me and this is the result."

Jim's head was spinning. Was this a story? If so, Dean had a wild, and detailed, imagination. "Wait, Bobby called your parents out to help? They're hunters?" He'd suspected as much; that was who Bobby dealt with the most besides his auto repair clients. And it would explain any excess aggression on John's part. But did they really tell their young son the truth about what they did?

"Yeah. And Cas. And me too."

"You're a hunter?" Jim asked. "Aren't you a little young?"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Dean looked up at him again and the pastor lost any doubts he had. The knowledge of what was out there was written all over the boy's face.

"I'm sorry." Jim wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. The pain the boy had gone through, the loss of innocence, the life he was living. Probably all of the above and more.

"Don't be. I save lives. It's worth it." Dean sighed. "Today just sucked."

Pastor Jim tried to digest all the information he'd just been given. "Your parents let you hunt when you're so young?"

"They didn't have a choice. When I was four, demons came for me. I know stuff. And the higher up demons want me 'cause of it. So, the only way to keep me safe was to teach me to protect myself. They taught me to hunt and kept me with them at all times. Can't tell you any more without putting us both in danger."

Jim felt his heart go out for this boy. Dean seemed like an incredibly broken, yet incredibly strong child. And somehow far older than his six or seven years.

"That's an awful lot for a child to live with."

"I'm not like most kids." Dean replied. "Then again, you're not like most pastors. No one in this business is what they seem, huh?"

Jim smiled. "How do you know so much about me?"

"Bobby told me."

"Lying is a sin, Dean."

"Well, one more sin on my rather extensive list isn't gonna make that much of a difference." Dean chuckled. "Really though, I know stuff. Lots of stuff. And I can't tell you how, and you can't ask."

"That's the only answer I'm going to get, isn't it?" Jim inquired.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "And it's probably the most truthful I've been to most hunters I've crossed paths with but I'd really like to get to know you better if that doesn't sound too weird and you don't mind."

"Sounds good to me. I never say no to adding another lost sheep to my flock."

Dean laughed. "I'm not really flock material. More lone wolf. The kind you want far away from the flock."

"Earlier you claimed to protect the flock."

"No one's perfect." Dean quipped.

It was Jim's turn to laugh. When he stopped, he asked "Will I ever get to hear your full story?"

Dean's expression turned serious. "I pray you never do, 'cause if that day comes it means that the crap has probably hit the fan. But yeah, I got a feeling that one day you will."

The pastor studied him for a long moment. "You've been through a lot. More than just tonight."

"Yeah. You'd think that after a while, you'd get used to torture. But it sucks just as much every single time. And I can't ever seem to be strong enough or smart enough to stop it. Hell, I can't even stop myself from reacting like a freakin' baby." Dean dropped his head down dejectedly.

Jim thought his eyebrows would meet his hairline when he heard those comments. Abuse victims blaming themselves was nothing new, but hunters typically were cocky and confident and tended to blame their injuries on the monsters, fate, God, or their hunting partners. Anything but themselves.

The pastor placed a gentle hand on Dean's chin and turned his face up to look the boy in the eye. "Listen to me; I can tell from the fact that you survived all this that you are strong. And I may have just met you, but I know that you are smart. It's just something about the way you talk; the look in your eyes. And as for being tortured, I don't know how often it's happened to you, and it breaks my heart to know that it's more than just this once, but I pray to God that you never get used to it. You seem like a nice boy, Dean. You talk tough sometimes, and your language can use some cleaning up, but you're a good kid. And no one that still has their humanity can be tortured and not be affected by it. So, don't feel like crying over the pain is a sign of weakness, Dean. It's a sign of strength. It shows that you are strong enough to hold on to your humanity even though you've been through so much in your life even at such a young age. It's a remarkable accomplishment."

Dean seemed to think over his words. It looked like the boy really wanted to believe him and Jim sent out a prayer that the child would. When he spoke again, it was in a very quiet voice. "I've been afraid of losing my humanity before. Glad to know it's not too late for me."

"Definitely not too late."

"But it _is_ getting kinda late in the evening and my dad's gonna go nuts if we don't go inside soon. He just killed a shifter to save me and I can't guarantee your life if you don't get me back soon."

Jim laughed. "Well then, I should grab the box of Bobby's books and we'd better hurry. Don't want our first meeting to be our last."

"Definitely not." Dean agreed, hopping off the back of the station wagon. He stumbled a little upon landing but managed to regain his footing.

Jim grabbed the box filled with old texts and lifted it out of his car. He placed it on the ground long enough to close the back and then picked it back up. The pastor followed the small boy back to Bobby's house, more eager to meet the Winchesters now that he knew that they were not abusing Dean. He was hoping to learn a bit more about this remarkable child and maybe find a way to help him a bit more.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Well, hope you all enjoyed. Up next, a little John POV to see what he thinks of all this. Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you thought, thanks._


	66. Pleased to Meet You

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! I had a lovely week not being chased by any hellcreatures... I want to thank guest, angelwings822, FireChildSlytherin5, liebedero, Hasmik Aharonyan, VGiselleH, Nyx Ro, Gustin azza, savannaharaiza5, numb3rs mystery, MusicLover19, shammy101, supernatural356, Irishred79, Firadraco, ouran1996, Jasper6509, Mysterious Prophetess, angelofheaven001, stone120, kasey123, if-llamas-could-fly, RoseDragon666, shirleypositive72, xAnita88x, celestialstarynight, LilyBolt, roy23, Lanna-Nailo, Mizunou, AlElizabeth, and Silvermoon of Forestclan for their awesome reviews._

**Chapter Sixty-Six: Pleased to Meet You **

"He's not going to tell him anything that he's not supposed to, John. Dean knows better."

John knew that Mary was right, but he couldn't help but worry as he stared out the window and couldn't see a damned thing. Apparently the damned pastor parked his damned car too far down the damned driveway for John to see it. Yet the hunter still stood there looking out into the dark.

He trusted Dean not to say anything, but he knew that his son wasn't going to be able to stop himself from acting, well, like Dean around his old friend. John recognized the name Pastor Jim Murphy from a few stories Dean had told and from some brief mentions in the journal. And that was bad news. His son managed to mostly behave himself around the random hunters that they'd run into out on their routine jobs, but every time they'd take a trip to the Road House, there was a definite difference. Dean was more… himself. He dropped his typical child-hunter act and became more like the Dean that John dealt with on a daily basis and the real trouble was that the boy didn't even realize that he was doing it. And it wasn't like John could tell him not to at this point, or Bill and Ellen would certainly notice the change. But now, he was certain that his son was going to do the same thing with Pastor Jim. Because around his 'old friends', Dean just seemed to be comfortable. It was one of the reasons why John had been dreading meeting any more acquaintances of Dean's from his original timeline. Explaining the boy's weird behavior was not easy.

Oh, and there was always the fact that the pastor was glaring at John after seeing Dean's many injuries. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Jim thought that Dean was a victim of child abuse.

John turned to his wife. "Even if he doesn't say anything, he's not going to act like a seven year old and we both know it. He already slipped up by calling the pastor by his name. And Pastor Murphy obviously thinks _I_ put those marks on Dean."

"And Dean will set him straight." Mary assured him, picking Sammy up from where he'd fallen asleep with his head resting on the table next to his half-eaten sandwich. "And as for how Dean acts, we'll get through it. Maybe this will be a good thing. We shouldn't turn down anything that can potentially help cheer Dean up at this point."

"I guess." John admitted. "I just… I don't want anymore complications right now."

"I know. But rather than get upset, maybe you should sit down and rest. I'll take a look at your head after I put Sammy to bed." Mary kissed him on the cheek as she walked by.

Once she'd gone upstairs, John sat down and put his aching head in his hands. He was tired and just really wanted to go to bed. But when did life ever cooperate with his wishes?

John closed his eyes and saw Dean falling to the ground, dead from a bullet fired from John's gun. His eyes flew open. No. That hadn't really been Dean. It was that damned shifter. He'd never kill his own son. But Dean had come so close to dying today. Had Cas not been able to teleport them back, had they had to drive, his son would've been a corpse by the time he'd made his way back to Bobby's house. John wondered how long it would've taken him to discover that the shifter wasn't really Dean. He had no doubt that he would've figured it out, but would it have been before the shifter got a chance to kill him? If so, that meant he would've had to kill the shifter and then taken care of two dead Dean bodies. John shivered, pushing that image out of his head.

"You saved Dean's life." John's head whipped around to see Cas standing only a couple of feet away. How the injured angel had gotten up and walked over to the table without making a sound, the hunter didn't know. "To you, I'm sure it must've looked as though you were shooting your own son, but its soul was corrupted and twisted. They couldn't look any more different from each other."

"You reading my mind?"

"No. I don't read minds."

John rolled his eyes. "I know that, Cas. I was just… never mind." He sighed. "I know it wasn't Dean, and the bastard deserved what it got and a hell of a lot more, but… I wish it didn't look like my son when I had to kill it."

A gasp alerted John to the fact that he and Cas weren't alone in the room any longer. He looked up at Mary, who was staring at him in shock.

"I… I thought it had taken on your form."

"It shifted before I got here." John replied simply. He had been putting off telling Mary the truth, but now it looked like the cat was out of the bag. "I figured out which one was really Dean and killed the shifter. I'll burn the body later myself. You don't need to see it."

Mary nodded, paling further than she'd been since this whole nightmare had started. She was strong, one helluva hunter, but John knew that the idea of burning a body that looked like her son was as sickening to her as it was to him. Possibly worse, since she hadn't seen it when it was alive and trying to kill her real son.

Bobby entered the room just then. "Ain't either of you gonna take care of it since I just did. And you better sit down, angel-boy, before your face is studying my floor up close again. Ya look like crap."

"He's not wrong." John agreed. "You probably shouldn't have gotten up."

"Dean will need my assistance to sleep tonight. He has endured his memories of Hell twice today so far while unconscious. I will not let him dream of it this night as well."

John was just digesting that bit of information when the front door swung open. He turned to see Dean walk through with Pastor Jim Murphy right behind him. The pastor was carrying a large cardboard box overfilled with old books. But that wasn't the only new thing. When the two of them had left, Jim had been casting suspicious looks at John, and Dean, while he'd been excited to see his old friend, had still been beaten down, and not just in a physical sense. Now, upon reentering Bobby's house, Jim sent a small nod John's way and Dean, well, he was still a bit upset but he was smiling and somehow a bit lighter. And that was reason enough for what John did next.

"Here, let me take that." John stepped forward and snatched the heavy box from Pastor Jim's hands.

"Thank you." Jim replied. "But be careful. I think the bottom of the box is about to give out."

"I'll just put it down on the kitchen table then, and it'll be Bobby's problem when he goes to move it to wherever the hell he wants it."

"I'm standing right here. I can hear ya, ya idjit." Bobby protested.

John purposefully ignored the older hunter. "These books look ancient. Where did you get them?"

"From here and there." Jim shrugged. "Hunters get their hands on them sometimes, others come from the church."

"The church?"

"Yeah. Old, cursed books are brought in to be cleansed and after I bless them, I make sure they find their way into the right hands. Some end up in my private collection, others get brought here."

John nodded. "You hunt?" He knew the answer, but wanted some details.

Jim nodded. "But not like you probably do. I don't go out looking for werewolves and vampires. Mostly I try to put spirits to rest and look into reports of biblical occurrences."

"Such as?"

"Demonic signs, claims of God-given powers, even the occasional angel sighting."

"You've met angels?" Cas asked.

Jim smiled. "Personally? Not yet. But I've met those who have claimed to. And yes, I believe they exist. If demons are out there, then angels are as well."

Castiel nodded and John could see the hint of a smile that the angel was trying to contain.

John looked at Pastor Jim and considered his options for a moment. Dean trusted this man and Dean hadn't been wrong about people yet. "You're an expert on this stuff, right?"

"I suppose so."

"In the past couple years, starting around November of 1983, have you heard of anything about my family or a demon known as Alastair?"

Jim seemed to think for a moment. "I don't exactly sit down for tea and conversation with the demons, but they do tend to brag a lot and they talk and spit out threats during exorcisms. I haven't heard you're family named specifically, no. As for the name Alastair, I heard the name once before, years ago. It's a name most demons fear themselves."

"Have you heard anything else?" Dean questioned. "Any talk of long term plans? Like apocalyptic type plans?"

"Lately a few demons have said comments about how 'she' is among us again. How someone from above released 'her' earlier than planned. But no name has been mentioned, or specifics on what the plan is. I can let you know if I hear of anything else."

'Thank you." John replied. "That would be great."

"Your son told me he was in some trouble with demons?"

"That's an understatement. I mean, we've been able to avoid them for the last year and a half but it means being very careful and avoiding any hunt that could possibly lead to demonic activity. And our house is a fortress against them."

Jim nodded. "Not an easy task. Most of the time, when a demon sets its sights on a target, it gets what it wants right away. I'm impressed."

John put a protective hand on Dean's shoulder. "No one is going to kill my son."

"Not from lack of trying." Dean mumbled. But when John looked, there was a small grin on the boy's face.

"Well, maybe if you didn't try to piss off the entire supernatural community…" John started.

"Then he would not be Dean Winchester." Cas finished.

"Cas!" Dean cried out, trying to sound scandalized.

Everyone laughed.

"Couldn't agree more." Bobby concurred.

"Oh, great." Dean complained. "Now everyone's against me."

"Perhaps now would be a good time for you to get some rest?" Cas suggested.

"That's a great idea." Mary suggested. "You could really use the sleep, sweetie."

"Yeah," Dean nodded reluctantly. "Guess you're right. 'Night Dad, Mom, Bobby, Pastor Jim. See you all in the morning."

He hugged John, Bobby, and Jim, then kissed Mary on the cheek. John watched as the boy climbed stiffly up the stairs, Cas right behind him. He wished desperately that he could rewind the whole damned day and just keep the boy safe. Dean didn't deserve any of this.

Dean's departure seemed to have triggered a bedtime alarm, because both Bobby and Mary went off to their separate rooms, John promising his wife that he'd be there in a moment.

"That's a very unique and amazing child you have there." Pastor Jim Murphy commented when they were alone.

"I know." John replied. He's not sure if it's the other man's understanding tone or his son's trust in the pastor that has him continue talking. "And I just don't know how to keep him safe. Every damned creature in this whole damned world seems to want a piece of him and Dean… he's so damned focused of fighting them and keeping _us_ safe. I just… I'm afraid he's not going to live to see puberty, let alone grow to be an adult. I almost didn't make it back in time today."

"But you did. And you seem like you know that you need to stay with him through the aftermath of this as well. So, I have confidence that you and your family will make it through this and all of your other trials with some help and guidance."

John chuckled. "Is that an offer? Because you just met us and trust me, you don't know what you'd be signing up for."

"Actually I was including myself in a list along with God, Bobby, and any other friends you might have. And while I don't know the story of your lives, I've never backed down from a challenge before."

John looked the other man over. "Somehow I get the feeling that that's true. My son doesn't trust many people, hunters or otherwise, but he likes you. Take that as a huge compliment."

"I will."

"And I don't know what the two of you talked about out there, but whatever it was, thank you. He seems… less burdened."

"What has he been through?" Jim asked.

"Hell." John replied, knowing that the pastor wouldn't realize that it was meant literally.

"I can see that."

"I think it's time to call it a night. It was nice to meet you, Pastor Jim." John was a bit surprised to find that he really meant it. Though he'd been skeptical of his son's friend at first, he could really see why Dean had gotten along well with this man. And it would be kind of nice to have another contact to add to their books for when they needed help. Especially an expert on demons.

"The pleasure was all mine."

John shook the other man's hand before heading off to the room he was staying in. He dressed in his pajamas and stretched out next to his wife, careful not to disturb her. As he closed his eyes, he prayed that his dreams wouldn't be haunted by images of himself killing his own son.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you guys enjoyed. Up next: A jump ahead a couple months to another hunt... hope this one goes better... Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks so much for all your support guys. It means a lot to me. _


	67. Setting Up Camp

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Hope you all had a great weekend and are ready for the start of a new hunt! I want to thank VGiselleH, Hasmik Aharonyan, numb3rs mystery, liebedero, BranchSuper, savannaharaizah5, guest, if-llamas-could-fly, Lady No Da 201, Jasper6509, crimsoneleven, angelofheaven001, LilyBolt, Nyx Ro, deansass, Mysterious Prophetess, FireChildSlytherin5, LeeMarieJack, Gustin azza, RoseDragon666, jennytork, Serie 11, teddybear17, Eliza Ghost, and Heartless BytchhakaHelenBach1 for their awesome reviews. You guys seriously rock. So, let's see if this goes any better for the Winchesters..._

**Chapter Sixty-Seven: Setting up Camp **

The tent poles seemed determined not to snap into place like the directions insisted that they were supposed to do. After over half a dozen tries, Mary felt like snapping the thin metal rods in half. And the box had claimed that the tent could be set up within five minutes. Liars.

"You know, I'm beginning to think that all that 'we'll get the fire wood, you girls set up camp here where it's safer' stuff was just an excuse to get out of having to help with the tents." She complained.

Ellen laughed. "I wouldn't put it past Bill, but Cas doesn't strike me as the type to pull that crap."

"No, but he's gullible enough to fall for Bill's tricks and go along with him." Mary insisted. "Which leaves us to fight with these tent poles."

"Maybe we can con your son into switching jobs with us." The other woman suggested.

Mary looked over to where Dean was setting up the perimeter of their camp. She sighed. "Nah, Dean's too smart for that. He'll know something's up the moment we ask. Besides, how embarrassed will we feel if he somehow manages to set this thing up in the five minutes it claims it takes?"

A sigh was the only answer she got. After another few minutes of fighting and struggling, Mary managed to get half the skeleton of the tent together. The second half proved to be easier and then the task of slipping the slightly too small canvas over the poles was a two woman job. Ellen helped her stretch and pull the material until they got the hooks through the rings and then they stood back to admire their handiwork.

"Nice." Ellen commented. "But now we gotta get the other one finished." She gestured to the poles she'd put together.

"I'm never going on another hunt that requires a camping trip again." Mary swore. "And if I do, I'm making sure that John can take the time off from work so that he can be here to set up camp."

"Maybe the tents won't be as hard to set up the second time around?" Ellen suggested.

"Not even taking the chance."

Once both tents were set up and staked down, the women sat for a moment, enjoying a drink of water and looking around the clearing they'd chosen to camp in. It was large enough for their two tents, a campfire, and some room to move around. Surrounding their little campsite were trees and the thick overgrowth of the deep forest that they were in, out in the middle of nowhere. Mary turned her head and caught Ellen watching Dean finishing his job of setting up the protection they were going to need so that they wouldn't end up like the other victims. They were here to kill the wendigo, not become its food. So, Dean was drawing Anazazi symbols in the dirt, carving them in the trees, and painting them on rocks. The boy was nothing if not thorough.

"I don't know how you do it. I'm going crazy trying to take care of one two year old girl and you have two young boys at home. You must be out of your mind some days."

"Some days." Mary admitted. "Sammy is getting into the 'I want to do it myself' stage, but of course he's still too little to do the things he claims he can do. The other day I caught him trying to make his own lunch. It took me forever to clean up the kitchen. Of course he _did_ offer to clean it all up himself…"

Ellen chuckled. "Well, that's something for me to look forwards to. I think I'll just send Jo to your house until she's college age."

"Oh no, I'm not signing up for another!" Mary protested. "As you pointed out, I already have my hands full."

"How's everything with Dean?"

Mary studied her son before answering. "Complicated. He's been through a lot, and he's holding up well, but… I worry."

"You're a mom. It's in our job description to worry." Ellen shrugged. "But maybe you'd worry less if you didn't bring him along on hunts like this."

And there it was. Mary knew that it was coming, but still, she rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. "We've been though this, El. Dean can handle himself on a hunt."

"I know. I've seen him in action before, and he's a better shot than most anyone, but a wendigo hunt is not kid stuff. Hell, I know of several full grown hunters that never made it back from one of these."

"And you gave a similar argument when we took him out on that black dog hunt last year. He was fine then."

"Mary…" Ellen trailed off as she looked over at Dean once again. The boy was staring off into space and Mary winced as she realized that her son was probably having one of his now rare, but not completely gone, Hell flashbacks. "What's his story, Mary? No seven year old can hunt like he does. Not even with all the training in the world. Hell, you and John couldn't've trained him 'cause he fights better than both of you. And the way he talks and acts… the look in his eyes… and I don't mean to sound rude, but there's something deeply wrong with him. I've kept my mouth shut about it for over two years now, but there's far more to his story than you've let on."

"I told you El, my son is on Hell's most wanted list."

"And I believe that. But it's how he got on it that I'm a bit fuzzy about."

"'Cause they just can't stand how awesome I am." Dean commented as he approached them.

Both women jumped, as they hadn't realized that the boy had gotten that close.

"Dean!" Mary exclaimed.

"The one and only." The boy smirked as he grabbed his canteen of water. "The perimeter's set up. No wendigo's getting in here. Can't guarantee that we won't be getting any visits from skunks or bears or anything, but we won't be monster chow."

"Well, I'm comforted." Ellen commented.

Dean looked over at the tents. "Dude, are those going to collapse and suffocate us while we sleep?"

Mary playfully smacked the back of his head. "We set them up just fine."

"I'm just saying…"

"Well, don't." She cut him off with a smile.

"We're back." Bill announced, as he stepped over the symbols holding an armful of firewood. Cas was right behind him. They deposited the wood in the center of the clearing.

"You missed all the fun." Ellen informed her husband. "Next time, you're setting up the tents."

"And leave you to trek out into the monster-infested forest to get fire wood? I wouldn't dream of it."

By his tone, Mary knew that Ellen was right about her suspicions of him avoiding certain jobs. And apparently the other woman knew it as well.

"You're a bastard, Bill Harvelle, and I _will_ get you back."

Cas was looking between them, slightly confused. "I believe he was trying to protect you. Why are you upset?"

"See?" Bill defended himself. "Cas is on my side."

"Men." Ellen rolled her eyes.

"Sexist." Bill shot back, grinning as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Children, behave." Dean scolded.

Mary shook her head. "Well, why don't we have an earlier dinner and discuss our strategy so we can get started. It's going to get dark soon, and we're not going to be able to leave camp after the sun's down."

"Sounds like a plan." Dean agreed, rummaging through their cooler bag. They had brought a few cold items and would eat them first since those would go bad quickly.

Over hotdogs and potato chips, the group discussed the hunt.

"That's a lot of hikers to go missing." Bill commented. "The pattern certainly fits a wendigo, but the body count is awfully high."

"It's the same in the previous years too." Mary pointed out. "Fourteen disappearances last time. We know that most wendigos don't take this many victims, but it's possible that this one is particularly ravenous."

"Or there's more than one." Dean suggested.

"No." Ellen shook her head. "I've never heard of wendigos hunting in pairs or groups before."

"No one has." Bill agreed. "They're too damned greedy. They'd kill each other over food."

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "But there's a first time for everything."

"It's more likely that this one might not be as old as some of the others." Bill theorized. "It probably hasn't learned how to make its food last yet. So it needs more."

"Perhaps it's ill or mutated." Cas suggested.

"Rabid wendigo. There's a happy thought." Dean muttered.

Mary shook her head. "They seem immune to most illnesses. I suppose mutation is possible. But the reason behind its appetite isn't that important. Right now we should focus on trying to track it down to its lair. Did you guys see anything while you were avoiding setting up camp by going out to get firewood?"

"No signs. But then, you didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?" Bill replied. "These things only leave a trail if they want to be found."

"Well, investigating previous attack scenes probably won't help either." Ellen added.

"We should go over the maps and check off the most likely areas." Dean suggested. "Any abandoned mines, or deep caves, or crap like that." He looked around. "You know, unless they decide to pay us a visit first."

"Even if it shows up here, we'll never get a clear shot." Bill mentioned.

Mary nodded. "Wendigos are fast and smart. If it comes here and sees the symbols, it'll make sure to stay far enough away to avoid us."

"But that won't deter it from wanting to make a meal out of us." Ellen countered.

"No, it won't." Mary concurred.

"So, we hunt it while it hunts us." Bill shrugged. "Just another day in the office."

They spread out the maps and started looking over them, marking possible hiding spots for the wendigo in black and the areas that the hikers were attacked in red. Mary noticed that Dean had wandered off to the edge of the camp and was looking out into the trees. She got up to walk over and join him.

"I don't think it's going to magically appear just because you stare hard enough."

Dean shrugged. "Can't hurt to try."

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Is this about your multiple wendigo theory being dismissed?"

Dean shook his head. "No. I get why it seems farfetched. Not upset over it."

Mary placed her hand around his back and on his opposite shoulder, looking out into the woods with him. "Then what's troubling you?"

"This hunt." Dean lowered his voice. "It's bringing back memories. My last wendigo hunt… it was with Sam, back right after Dad had left me and we were searching for him and… I don't know. It's just…" Dean sighed.

Mary didn't know what to say. It was always strange hearing her son talk about the times from before, when he and his brother were adults. Dean didn't tell stories often, opening up only when pressed or when he needed to give them information, so when he got like this, she knew that he was really feeling nostalgic.

"How did it turn out?"

Dean smirked. "I fried the monster, we saved a family, and we all got out with only minor injuries."

"Well, that's encouraging."

The boy nodded. "'Course there was only one of them that time."

"Dean." Mary warned. It wasn't that she didn't think his theory was possible, it was just that it wasn't likely and by him constantly bringing it up, he'd only annoy the others. Of course, knowing her son, that was exactly why he was doing it.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Hey, you two!" Ellen called. "We have three possibilities. Want to come take a look at the map?"

"Coming." Mary responded. She looked down at Dean, who had tilted his face up to see her. "We can talk more tonight about, you know, before."

Dean nodded, but Mary got the feeling that he'd get a handle on his emotions by then and there'd be no more talk of that hunt. She followed her son over to the Harvelles and Cas to take a look at the map and start planning their hunt. They needed to take the wendigo out before there were any further casualties, including anyone from their little party.

_**Author's Note Part Two: ** Well, no blood yet... Hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	68. Ambush

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone and Happy (late) 4th of July! Well, the beginning of this hunt was relatively calm... let's see if that trend continues of if I go ahead and completely traumatize the Winchesters and Harvelles. I want to thank guest, Nyx Ro, angelofheaven001, BranchSuper, XdarkkissX, Invader Kiwi, Hasmik Aharonyan, VGiselleH, if-llamas-could-fly, MusicLover19, savannaharaiza5, numb3rs mystery, EllyKayWasHere, shirleypositive72, FireChildSlytherin5, Gustin azza, liebedero, crimsoneleven, Jasper6509, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, xAnita88x, LilyBolt, Lady No Da 201, Mysterious Prophetess, Serie 11, and Amara Rose 4 Ever for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! _

**Chapter Sixty-Eight: Ambush **

Dean studied the map silently as the others pointed out the caves that they had circled. They were discussing which would be most likely due to how extensive the cave system was and the distance they each were from the attack sites. The small hunter stayed quiet, knowing that his input would most likely be dismissed again by the Harvelles. Dean knew that he shouldn't blame them. While they'd seen him take out monsters with guns and knives and such, they figured that he was still just a kid and had little experience when it came to research and no real knowledge of the paranormal. Their easy dismissal of his multiple wendigo theory had proved that. But while Dean knew why they acted this way, it still hurt. He kind of wanted their respect and instead was being treated like the kid that he appeared to be. It sucked. The boy suppressed a sigh. Then he figured _screw it._ He was Dean Winchester, and he didn't just back down just 'cause others didn't feel like listening to what he had to say.

One of the caves was much too small and Dean mentally rejected it as a possibility. Ellen had suggested it since it was the most central to the attacks, but one look at its depth and the youngest hunter knew that the wendigo wouldn't choose it to hide in. The other two were much more extensive and offered more hiding spots. Dean wasn't sure if relation to the attacks was actually relevant to figuring out which cave was the wendigo's lair. After all, the creature was fast and would willingly travel the extra distance to get to its victims.

"One of these two." Dean pointed to the spots on the map. After he explained his reasoning, he got up to toss some more wood onto the campfire, leaving them to debate the information he'd passed along.

Once the fire was roaring, Dean sat down on the ground, picked up a stick, pulled a marshmallow out of his jacket pocket, and stuck it on the sharpest end. He held the gooey treat over the fire and watched it slowly turn a light golden color. The young hunter kept an ear on the conversation that the others were having. His mom was defending his point of view, while Bill was trying to convince her that the cave that Dean had dismissed might still be worth checking out. Cas was staying quiet, like he usually did during debates like this, and Ellen was insisting that distance _was_ an important factor. Dean understood why she'd think so. This was her first wendigo hunt and she actually had only been a hunter for about five years. An amateur. But then Bill pointed out that Dean was only a kid and really couldn't strategize yet. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the hot, melted marshmallow off the stick and shoved it into his mouth. Damn, but that was good. Burned the hell out of his tongue, but it tasted like heaven. And then Dean heard his mom trying to defend him and Dean had had enough of staying out of the conversation. Laying low was not his style. He swallowed the marshmallow, got up, and turned to face the other hunters.

"Hey! I'm right here and can hear every hushed word you guys are saying." They all had the sense to look slightly embarrassed. "Now look, I'm a hunter and I've killed a hell of a lot of sons of bitches in the last couple of years and it's not been by accident or coincidence. I know what I'm talking about. You got a different opinion than me, that's fine, but don't dismiss me just 'cause I'm too short to ride rollercoasters, got it?"

"Dean, I know that you're an excellent hunter," Bill started. "But experience-wise, the rest of us know a bit more."

"Uh huh." Dean crossed his arms. "How many wendigos have you ganked?"

"Well, none…"

"Then I don't think you have one up on me. So why don't we all put our heads together and figure this bitch out?"

There was a moment of silence and then Bill nodded. "Fair enough."

After a brief moment, Mary spoke. "Tomorrow we should head east. That cave system is the deepest and might be the most attractive to the wendigo."

Dean held his breath, since the plan that she was proposing was basically his. After a moment both Ellen and Bill agreed and the boy found that he could breathe again.

Not long afterwards, everyone went to bed, Bill and Ellen in one tent and Cas, Dean, and his mom in the other. Dean knew that his mom wanted to continue their conversation from earlier, but he immediately rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, claiming fatigue. In reality, he just didn't want to share his feelings. He had no clue why he'd brought the subject up earlier. It wasn't like Dean could really discuss it with his mom. What was he supposed to say? _Well, Mom, this hunt is bringing back some memories for me and I find myself missing parts of my previous life, mostly the adult version of my younger brother. _Dean didn't think about stuff like that often. He was thrilled that Sammy got a chance to live his life without all the crap that he'd had to go through the first time around, but sometimes the young hunter just missed the brother that he'd raised all those years; his partner in crime. And since the wendigo hunt had been one of their first that they'd completed together after hooking up again after Sammy's college years, this hunt was just a huge reminder to Dean of all of that. But Dean swallowed it back and tried to ignore it, as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. No sense troubling anyone else with his crap.

After breakfast the next morning, the group of hunters headed out of their protected camp and started off towards the cave. It would take hours to reach it and Dean knew that if it was a bad lead they'd end up wasting the entire day. The small hunter thought that this was probably the correct cave but there was also the possibility that the second cave he'd pointed out was the right one.

Bill was leading their group, followed by Ellen, then Dean, Cas, and Mary was bringing up the rear. They carried an arrangement of weapons ranging from flare guns to flame throwers (Dean's was a smaller homemade model) to lighter fluid and matches. They were certainly ready for the wendigo. Or wendigos, as Dean was still convinced they were dealing with more than one.

As they hiked, Dean kept his eyes open for any signs of the creature. He wasn't expecting to find any, so he was a bit surprised when, about two and a half hours in to their trip, he saw something partially buried in the dirt.

"Hold up, guys. I see something!"

The boy broke away from the group and ran a couple yards away to crouch down by a patch of disturbed dirt where he saw a mostly buried piece of cloth. Dean pulled it out and held it up where he and the others could see it. It was a torn piece of denim covered in dried blood. It couldn't have been there very long at all.

"It must belong to one of the victims." Ellen commented.

"But none of the hikers disappeared anywhere near this area." Dean's mom pointed out.

"Then we must be on the right track." Bill stated. "The wendigo must've taken him this way."

"Yeah, maybe." Dean muttered.

"Good catch, Dean." Bill approved. "Let's continue on. But keep our eyes out for anything else like this."

As they started off again, Dean matched pace with the older hunter. "Hey Bill, aren't you the one who said that wendigos only leave a trail if they want to be found?"

"Well yeah, but I meant footprints, claw marks, and such. One piece of bloody cloth isn't exactly a trail." Then he looked down at the boy. "You think it was left there on purpose?"

"It rained two days ago. The scrap of denim wasn't out there then. I think it was put there last night. The wendigo knows we're here."

Bill seemed to think over what Dean had said. "I think you're right. And if that's the case, then there's no way in hell that this beast is going to let us anywhere near its lair."

"Right." Dean nodded. "It'll probably leave more scraps to distract us and then set an ambush."

"So, we ignore any clues and continue on to the cave." Bill suggested.

The boy bit his lip thoughtfully. "That could work, but if we bypass its trap, it could just get pissed and jump us. There's enough of us that we'd win, but not without casualties."

"Not acceptable." Bill insisted.

"My thoughts exactly." Dean agreed.

"So plan B is…"

"We set up our own ambush."

Bill nodded. "Half of us continue onwards and let ourselves 'become distracted' by the trail the wendigo left and the others circle around on either side and ambush it when it tries to jump us."

Dean grinned. "Awesome."

"And I suppose you think that you two will be the bait?"

Dean turned to face Ellen. "Yep." He hadn't even realized that the others had gotten close enough to overhear everything.

"No," His mom said. "Absolutely not."

"I will fulfill that role alongside Bill." Cas offered.

"Who said Bill is doing it at all?" Ellen asked.

"I did." Bill answered. "Think of it as me making up for not helping with the tent yesterday."

"It makes sense." Dean's mom interjected. "The wendigo knows there are hunters here. It'll expect men. Bill and Cas look the most like hunters. They can draw its attention while Dean, you, and I can quietly sneak around behind it and ambush it. It wouldn't see us as threats."

Ellen didn't look convinced but finally nodded. She kissed her husband but purposefully didn't say goodbye.

Dean watched Cas and Bill walk off and then turned to his mom. "Okay, you take the right, Ellen you go left."

"And you?"

Dean grinned. "I'm taking a different approach."

His mom gave him an odd look before kissing him on the head. "Please be careful."

"Always am."

"And yet we're always stitching you back up."

"Hazards of the job." Dean shrugged.

Once the women were out of sight, the small hunter ran after the Bill and Cas. He stayed out of sight, ducking behind trees and bushes, moving as quickly and quietly as possible. Dean kept a close eye on them, watching as they stopped to check out another purposefully left clue and then continued on their way.

It was a while later when all of Dean's hunter's instincts screamed at him that something was incredibly wrong. Even if they hadn't discussed an impending attack, he'd have known that something bad was about to happen. Dean wasted no time in climbing up the nearest tree. He pulled himself up from one branch to the next until he was pretty high up. The he carefully swung himself into the adjacent tree. It wasn't the easiest way to travel, but he was now ready for the wendigo to strike.

And then it happened. Cas and Bill had stopped in a tiny clearing and were crouched down looking at something half buried in the dirt. Dean watched them from high above and then caught a flash of movement in the trees below himself and to the right. He kept quiet though. Yelling out a warning would ruin their ambush. The young hunter tensed up, knowing the time for action had come. Seconds later, a thin pale figure dropped from the trees and hit Bill with such force that the hunter was thrown back several feet, as the creature landed on Cas, who was forced to the ground. Dean knew that his mom and Ellen had to be nearby but he couldn't wait for them. He had to act now. The boy pulled his flamethrower out from where he'd tucked it into his backpack, held it tightly in both hands, and dropped down onto the wendigo right below him.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Well... hope this goes well... Please leave a review... Or someone may just die (insert evil laugh here). Thanks, Hope you enjoyed._


	69. Wendigo

_**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! Guess you were all concerned that I'm planning a terrible fate for our intrepid hunters... Do I have a reputation or something? I want to thank savannaharaiza5, numb3rs mystery, liebedero, if-llamas-could-fly, Lady No Da 201, BranchSuper, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, angelofheaven001, Tanokuya, FireChildSlytherin5, Amar Rose 4 Ever, crimsoneleven, celestialstarynight, Gustin azza, Araina Richardson, guest, MusicLover19, heresaname, Eliza Ghost, EllyKayWasHere, Nyx Ro, Kitsune1818, LilyBolt, Mysterious Prophetess, ouran1996, VGiselleH, HeddersTheOwl, Invader Kiwi, Serie11, Jasper6509, SillyJily, Sanshal, RoseDragon666, Star-Simple-Dust, Ammy, XdarkkissX, and AlElizabeth for their awesome reviews. You guys are the best._

**Chapter Sixty-Nine: Wendigo **

Bill had known that the ambush was coming, yet somehow the damned wendigo still took him by surprise. One minute he was inspecting yet another bloodstained piece of cloth, and the next something was hitting him hard in the chest. The hunter was thrown to the ground and he felt his head collide with something hard. _Probably a rock._ his brain supplied unhelpfully. He blinked his eyes rapidly and turned his aching head just in time to see something small drop down from the trees. At first Bill thought that maybe Dean had been right and that there was a second wendigo, and a child-sized one at that, but then he realized that the figure was in fact the young hunter himself. And the kid had just jumped down onto the wendigo, knocking it to the ground and off of Cas.

Bill watched as Dean turned the nozzle of his flamethrower downward, obviously intending to roast the creature while he himself was still standing on it. But then the creature reached up and grabbed onto the boy and threw him across the clearing and into a tree. Bill's fuzzy mind thought _Damn, those things have long arms._

He tried to get to his feet to help, but a wave of nausea and some floating black spots had other ideas. When his vision cleared, Bill saw that Ellen and Mary had arrived. His wife was taking aim with her flare gun, but just as she pulled the trigger, the wendigo blurred out of the way and the shot missed. Mary took a shot with her flare gun, but with similar results. Bill hoped that they didn't end up burning the forest down.

He must've blacked out for a moment, but when the world came back into focus, Cas was standing next to him protectively and both he and Ellen were now holding flamethrowers. Bill sat up slowly, feeling a bit dizzy as blood slowly trickled down the side of his face, and took a look around. He couldn't see Mary, Dean, or the wendigo.

"Where…" He asked.

"In the woods." Cas answered. "It's hunting us still."

Ellen turned and had opened her mouth to say something when suddenly Dean's voice cried out. "Ellen! Behind you!"

Bill watched as his wife threw herself to the side just as a clawed hand came right out of the trees and swept right where her head would've been. Ellen dove onto the ground, rolled, and came to her feet, aiming her weapon at the wendigo. Or where it had been. The damned thing was moving too fast. But Mary appeared near the edge out the woods and fired another flare at the area the creature disappeared into. The thing roared, but in anger, not pain. It leapt and its clawed hand slashed at the woman. Bill watched as Mary backed up, but not fast enough. She cried out as bloody cuts appeared on her left shoulder.

"Mom!"

Bill looked up and saw that Dean had once again ended up above them, acting as lookout.

"I'm alright!" Mary called back.

Bill glanced over and saw that somehow Mary was across the clearing and now Cas was by her side. What the hell? How had they moved so fast?

The hunter struggled to his feet, pulling out his own flare gun. With his vision not at one hundred percent, he knew that he had no chance of actually hitting the wendigo if he shot at it, but he felt better holding a weapon. Besides, he was actually starting to feel a bit better. Maybe not well enough to tangle with this creature on his own, but he could definitely back the others up.

He swept his gaze around the small clearing and saw a slight movement in the bushes, but wasn't sure whether it was the wendigo or not. Bill squinted his eyes and aimed his flare gun but a barely audible "Nope." from Dean had him continuing to scan the area. He saw Cas and Ellen step closer to him as they drew together to stand with their backs together for protection. Mary was moving to join them from their left when a movement from their right caught Bill's attention.

"Watch out!" He yelled.

"Get down!" Dean called.

Cas pushed him to the ground, cradling his head carefully so that it wouldn't get hurt further, as Dean dropped down to pull Ellen to the forest floor. The reason why became clear a second later as something sailed over their heads. Bill turned to see the object strike the wendigo and shatter. The creature screeched as it erupted into flames. It burned bright and stumbled back as it howled for a few seconds, but the fire ate it away within no time at all. The horrific scene was over almost before it began.

As they all got back up, Cas helping Bill, the hunter turned to face Mary. "Did you just kill the wendigo with a molotov cocktail?"

She shrugged. "I ran out of flares."

"Dude, that was awesome." Dean commented.

"Speaking of flares," Ellen started. "We should make sure that none of our misfires are going to burn down these trees."

"I made sure they won't." Cas informed them.

"How?" Bill wanted to know.

"With water."

"Yeah," Ellen didn't sound convinced. Truthfully, neither was Bill. "What water? Your canteen?"

"He peed on it." Dean rolled his eyes and Bill had to suppress his laughter. "What does it matter? Cas took care of it. Now we gotta hurry up and get to the cave."

"Why?" Bill asked. "The wendigo is dead."

"Yeah, but it sure as hell didn't want us anywhere near its lair. And I'm thinking that might be 'cause at least one of its victims is still alive."

"It was protecting its food source." Ellen stated.

Dean nodded. "And they're probably injured so we can't waste any time. Let's patch up any wounds that might need patching up and then head out."

Both Mary and himself needed a few butterfly bandages and some gauze and then they were on their way. Bill couldn't stop thinking about all the questions that this hunt was bringing up though. First off, there was Dean. Dean, who hunted like no seven year old had the right to hunt. And who came up with strategies and plans better than the adults in their group. And who just didn't talk or act like a kid at all. And why wasn't this little guy ever afraid? But now there was also Cas. Cas who was always just a little bit… off. And who moved a bit too fast and put out fires with nothing. What exactly was up with the Winchesters? Bill would never know because the family would never give them a straight answer. But after this hunt, he was sure as hell going to try and find out.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Dean took the lead this time and was a bit surprised when no one objected. Of course, both his mom and Bill were injured and Ellen was bringing up the rear, which left Cas, who wouldn't argue with Dean, so the young hunter really shouldn't have been shocked that he hadn't been challenged, but still…

The boy sighed. He had a feeling that this hunt was going to bring up even more questions about his family. They'd lucked out that both Bill and Ellen had been looking up at him when Cas had transported Dean's mom across the clearing, but he knew that at least one of the Harvelles would probably question the speed in which they'd moved. And now the whole putting out the fires thing was going to be an issue too. Not to mention that Dean himself was constantly a topic of conversation. But he couldn't reveal the truth. Demons would stop at nothing to get the real story on Dean Winchester and the young hunter feared that anyone who knew it might be put at risk. He couldn't do that to Bill and Ellen. Not to mention little Jo.

Dean suppressed a groan as his backpack shifted and bumped what would be one helluva a bruise by the next day. Being thrown into a tree hurt like a bitch. But he considered himself lucky. He had walked away from that battle with not a scratch on him. But he was gearing up for the possibility of another battle. Because they were walking into the wendigo's cave and if there was more than one of those bastards, then it might not be empty. And two-fifths of their group were now injured. But Dean would be ready.

It took slightly longer than expected to hike all the way out to the cave, and Dean was hoping that they'd have time to check out the entire cave, rescue any living victims, and get out before it got dark. Anything else would totally suck.

When they got there, Dean pulled out his flashlight, turned it on, and led the way carefully down into the dark, dank cave system. He was keeping an ear out for any noises but it was hard since the others weren't stepping quietly.

"Shhh." Dean hissed back at them. "Keep it down!"

"What's up?" Ellen asked.

"I don't want us making any noise in case there's another wendigo."

"We went over this." Bill muttered.

"No," Dean rolled his eyes. "_I_ said there's two and _you_ said there's not and expected me to just drop my theory in favor of yours."

"Dean, do you know how wendigo's come to exist?" Bill asked.

"Yeah. They are people that turn cannibal that turn wendigo."

"Well, that's putting it a bit simplistically, but yes, that's basically it. And they are constantly hungry. So, there could never be two that turn because eventually one would just get so hungry that they'd eat the other."

"Fourteen victims last time." Dean argued.

"No, fourteen missing persons." Ellen countered. "Some might not have even been victims. There are one or two people that go missing in this area every year."

Dean shook his head. "Look, I don't buy it. Nor do I think that the one we encountered had something wrong with it. Please, trust me on this. I think I've earned it."

No one said anything. Dean knew that his mom and Cas were staying out of it, trying to give him the respect of fighting his own battle rather than rushing to his rescue. And whether Bill and Ellen were listening to him or ignoring him Dean didn't know, but at least it was quiet now and he could listen for any sign of the second wendigo.

A few minutes later, the slope on the rocky ground got severely steep. The group of hunters walked sideways and proceeded slowly, occasionally slipping, but not sliding or falling. Once they were again on semi-even ground, they picked up their pace a bit but still kept as silent as possible. Whenever they came to a fork in the path, Dean chose the tunnel that lead downward, knowing that it would seem the most attractive to the wendigo. He marked their trail with a piece of chalk he'd brought along for just this sort of situation. After a while, the young hunter knew that he'd found the right spot when he almost stepped on a human skull.

Dean walked into the cavern and looked around. Nothing seemed to be moving, but there were a few bodies tied up and lying around the large space. He crept into the open area, still keeping an eye out for anything that might mean his family and friends harm, and moved over to the first body. A middle aged man dressed in hunting clothes was torn open and clearly dead. Next was a twenty-something guy who was covered in blood, but Dean took his pulse to see if he was still alive. He wasn't. Next was a red haired teenager, dressed in torn jeans and a black Metallica t-shirt. His face was cut up a bit and he looked like hell. Dean reached out to take his pulse and the guy jerked away and made a small noise of protest.

"Hey, it's okay, man." Dean comforted. "We're getting you outta here." He motioned the others over before moving on to the next victim.

The next guy was… the same person but in a blue polo instead of a rock band tee. What the… oh, they must be twins. Dean took twin-guy's pulse and felt a weak but semi-steady beat.

"'Nother live one." He called quietly, before moving on.

The next was a dead guy in denim and flannel and then a dead chick in way less than anyone hiking had a right to be wearing. Did hookers service out here in the middle of nowhere? Then was a mess of torn flesh and bone that used to be a guy. Finally Dean came to a girl in her early twenties who was dressed for a hike but her clothes were shredded, as was some of her skin. But she opened her eyes as Dean crouched down near her.

"Who…"

"My name's Dean. We're here to help."

"It… it ate them…"

"I know. But you're gonna be okay. We're gonna get you outta here. Don't worry."

"You're… you're not park rangers. Too young."

Dean grinned. "Nah, we're better. Just hold on, okay?"

She nodded, her long black hair falling in her face and sticking in the tacky blood that coated her skin. Dean reached out and brushed it away gently. His mom knelt down next to him a moment later.

"Let's get these ropes off of her." Dean watched his mother cut the girl free of her bindings and help the young woman up.

The small hunter rejoined the others to see Metallica-twin blinking up at him while Polo-twin still lay on the ground unconscious.

"That's it for survivors." Dean commented.

Ellen looked the three young victims over. "We should patch them up a bit and then get them out of these woods. We can always go back for the tents afterwards."

"Agreed." Mary nodded.

"I don't believe we'll have the time to provide first aid." Cas spoke up.

"Why not?" Bill asked.

Dean knew the answer before Cas responded. "There is something in here with us."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Well, maybe the hunt isn't over yet... See, other hunters should really listen to Dean. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Because I still have time to feed Dean to a wendigo..._


	70. What Are You

_**Author's Note: **Well, after careful consideration, I didn't feed Dean to the wendigo and brought him back for this chapter! So, yay! I want to thank angelofheaven001, if-llamas-could-fly, numb3rs mystery, liebedero, savannaharaiza5, VGiselleH, CoolBeena, Gustin azza, Invader Kiwi, Serie11, MusicLover19, SillyJily, Amar Rose 4 Ever, celestialstarynight, deansass, Nyx Ro, RoseDragon666, Mysterious Prophetess, guest, LeeMarieJack, Star-Simple-Dust, Dev's Inferno, AlElizabeth, BranchSuper, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, Jasper6509, ouran1996, XdarkkissX, Lady No Da 201, LilyBolt, pearlgirl97, Mizunou, Eiza Ghost, big big fanayers, and Laurette for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! _

**Chapter Seventy: What Are You**

"Cas, go with Mom and get the victims out of here." Dean ordered. "Bill, Ellen, and I will take care of the other wendigo." He turned to the Harvelles. "And don't bother telling me there isn't another one, 'cause there is. And it's coming for us."

"Dean…" His mom started to protest.

"Mom, you and Cas can get them out of here _fast_ if need be." He was letting her know that they could teleport if they had to. The victims could be talked into silence. But Bill and Ellen could not know about the angel's abilities. And Dean wasn't going to leave them alone here to face the ravenous creature. "It's the best plan. Please. Go."

"Alright." She nodded reluctantly and helped Metallica-twin to his feet, while Cas picked up Polo-twin. The young woman was limping behind them as they left the cavern.

Dean let out a sigh of relief as they exited. At least his injured mom would be safe now. The first wendigo had torn up her arm pretty badly and while she'd brushed it off as nothing, Dean had been concerned that it would impair her ability to fight. Now he just had to make sure that Bill's concussion didn't get the older hunter killed.

"So, what now?" Ellen asked.

"We wait." Dean replied. "It knows we're here and we have a much better chance of fighting it here than in the narrow tunnels. If we get cornered by it, we're as good as dead. I'll guard this entrance. Bill, you take the one to our left. Ellen, you get the one on the far wall."

"Dean, we're wasting time." Bill insisted.

"Humor me."

"Fine, but only for a while."

The other hunters hadn't even reached their posts when suddenly dirt and rocks rained down from above as it seemed like the whole roof was caving in on them. Dean dropped to his knees and threw his hands over his head to protect himself. Through the rubble, debris, and dust, he saw the figure of the wendigo drop down into a crouch and then rise to stand above the scattered hunters. It let out a howl.

Dean looked over its figure and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Whoa! I think that one used to be a chick!"

"The other one had to have been its mate." Bill commented from where he was lying on the ground, pinned under pieces of rocks.

"Yeah, and now she's pissed 'cause she's too damned ugly to get laid by anyone else." Dean smirked.

As if it knew what was being said, the female wendigo howled again and looked at each one of them, as if to determine which one was the biggest threat. Bill was still on the ground, concussed and under debris. Ellen was on her hands and knees, trying to find her flare gun. Dean stood, ready for a fight, but he too was weaponless. The creature however looked quite deadly. It was a bit smaller and thinner than its male counterpart, but its claws were just as long and sharp. And it was twice as pissed. Its small, rounded breasts heaved in and out rapidly as its anger grew and Dean knew that the thing was well aware of what they had done to its mate.

It turned and went to run at Ellen, but Dean was already moving. He ran and dove forwards tackling the wendigo around the legs and dragging it to the ground with him. It went to take a swipe at him, but the small hunter rolled away and ended up with torn clothes but nothing more. The thing tried again, but Dean scrambled away and turned around squirting it with the small bottle of lighter fluid he'd kept in his jacket pocket. The wendigo got back to its feet but had no time to attack again, because the boy was right there with a lighter in his hand. He flicked it on and pushed the small flame up into the wendigo's ribs and watched with extreme satisfaction as the creature caught fire. Unfortunately, so did his denim jacket sleeve.

"Sonofabitch!" Dean screamed, as he stumbled back, struggling out of his jacket. He threw it to the ground and stomped out the flames. By the time he glanced back up, he saw that the wendigo was gone, burnt away to nothing. "Score two for the good guys!"

Dean turned around to see Ellen helping Bill to his feet. He grinned at them but his smile faded as Bill stared at him with wide eyes.

"What are you?"

Dean blinked, not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or scream at the accusation. "What?"

"The way you hunt, the way you kill. What are you?"

"A hunter." Dean replied, a bit uncomfortably.

"Uh huh." Bill stepped forwards, hand in his pocket and before Dean could react, the boy was splashed in the face with water.

"Holy water? Really?" Dean wiped his eyes with his arm. "Not a demon. And if you get a silver knife anywhere near me, I'm gonna be pissed. And I'll kick your ass. I'm human, man."

"You're not normal." Ellen insisted.

"Boy, you know how to hurt a guy's feelings." It was said flippantly, but deep down, it was the truth. "I just saved our asses from something you two insisted couldn't possibly exist, and now you're saying crap about me. And when my family isn't around to defend me. Nice."

"Dean…" Ellen started.

"No! You don't get to 'Dean' me. A moment ago you were splashing me with holy water and now you're putting on your 'let's play nice' voice? Hell, no!"

"Fine, then!" Bill yelled. "We won't 'play nice'. But we will still get answers. What the hell is up with you? Because you're not just some kid that knows how to hunt, that's for sure. You're a damned expert! And you're ruthless. And just… not normal. So, I repeat; what are you?"

"I thought I was you're friend." Dean practically snarled at him. "But now I'm second guessing that."

"Don't be like that." Ellen interrupted.

"Like what? Ruthless? Or not normal? Or am I doing something else wrong now?"

"Dean, we just want to know what's wrong with you."

"Oh, so now there's wrong with me."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, you meant it _exactly_ like that." Dean shot back.

Bill sighed. "We just… we just want to know what your story is Dean. And don't give us the same 'demons are after you' line. There's more to it than that. You're not just a regular kid. You're too good at this. Too well-trained. Too intelligent. Too experienced."

"It's like you're too old to be only seven." Ellen added, and Dean felt his heart sink. "Is that it? Are you somehow older than you look? Like… you age slowly somehow?"

Dean shook his head. "No. You've known me for over two years now. You can see that I'm aging just fine." He crossed his arms. "And by the way, if that were true, it would mean that my mom was older too, and I don't think she'd be too happy to hear that theory."

"Okay, so you age normally, but how old are you?" Bill asked.

Dean shook his head. "Stop. Please, just stop asking me questions." He felt tears coming to his eyes.

"Dean, we just want to know…"

"And you can't! You can't know the truth!" Dean shouted. He saw them both take a step back. "See this?" Dean pointed to the thin, light scar on the right side of his face. "This is what happens when you know the truth. And one of Hell's most feared demons wrapped a freakin' chain around my throat and tried to drag me off to God knows where to do God knows what to me to get the truth outta me at our last encounter. And before that he broke my arm and threw me from a second story window. All to discover my story. My secrets are putting me in constant danger. I can't… I can't let you anywhere near this. I can't take the chance that Hell finds out and comes after you guys. I won't do that to you. I won't. It's bad enough that my family is in danger, but I can't risk my friends too. Maybe someday it'll be safe enough for you to know. Or the crap'll hit the fan and you'll find out one way or another, but this isn't that day. For today, I'm asking you to please drop this. Please."

Dean didn't even realize that he was shaking with emotion or that tears were running down his face until Ellen stepped forward, put one gentle but firm hand on his shoulder to steady him, and wiped the wetness from his cheeks.

"We didn't mean to push, Dean. I admit to being curious, but more so, we thought that by knowing we could help. It's obvious that you've known pain in your past."

"I don't want you to know the same pain." Dean whispered truthfully.

"You're a good kid." Bill commented. "And when you feel you can tell us your story, I'd love to hear it."

Dean nodded, the lump in his throat preventing him from talking.

"I suppose Cas' story is linked to yours and thus, we can't know that one either?" Bill raised an eyebrow.

Dean shrugged and nodded again.

"Can he use magic or something?" Ellen questioned.

"Or something. Now, if our moment's over, we should head out. The stink of roast wendigo is totally gonna make me puke. 'Sides, I wanna get outta these woods before midnight." Dean stepped away from the woman and turned to pick up his ruined denim jacket. He pulled it on, hissing as it brushed against the slightly burned skin of his arm. Then he grabbed his pack and led the way back out of the cave.

Luckily, they didn't get lost as their group trudged back out of the underground caverns and soon they emerged into the darkening woods. Dean stayed quiet, not sure what to think about their previous conversation. While he understood their questions and their reasoning, he was a bit hurt by their reactions to him. He knew he could be a bit unnerving to be around when he was hunting, but was he really bad enough to be considered worthy of the holy water test? And he wasn't touching the 'What are you' question. Still, he liked the Harvelles and they had the best of intentions…

Dean sighed. He knew that there was a chance that demons could still go after his friends, but he figured that it was less likely if they didn't know anything. After all, while Alastair _had_ questioned his mom during their last encounter, it had been Dean himself that the demon had been about to kidnap to torture the truth out of. Dean figured that it was because Alastair couldn't be one hundred percent certain that his mom would be able to provide all the answers he'd needed. So, in the young hunter's mind, the less others knew, the better off they were. But Dean kinda wished that he could tell them. Yeah, they might think of him as a freak, but at least he could be honest with them and let them really get to know the real him. It would be nice to get the weight of the secrets off of his shoulders. But the weight of their deaths would not be worth it should the worst come to pass.

It was long past dark when they reached the parking lot near the edge of the forest. Dean was exhausted and was stumbling over his own feet as he stepped from the bushes and onto the blacktop. He knew by the lack of ambulances and police cars that Cas had taken the victims straight to the hospital. Great, that would mean more questions from the Harvelles.

"Dean!"

The boy looked up to see his mom running towards him, Cas walking right behind her. "It's okay, Mom. We're fine. The wendigo's dead."

"So there was a second one." Dean didn't miss how she looked straight at the Harvelles as she said it.

"Yeah. It was a chick. My guess is that they were a couple before they became those things. That's why they never ate each other."

His mom's eyes widened. "You don't think… I mean, there aren't any baby wendigos running around out here, are there?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah. A wendigo's drive is to feed and sleep. Not to mate. Besides, I got a good look at both of them and let's just say I don't think either of them were… uh… properly _equipped _to make babies."

"Where are the survivors?" Ellen asked, looking around.

"At the hospital." Cas replied.

"The ambulances left already? We weren't that far behind you?"

Dean's mom shrugged. "I guess they were in a hurry."

"Uh huh." It was obvious that Ellen wasn't buying the story, but she wasn't pushing for answers either. "Well, we should all head to a motel or something for the night and then come back tomorrow to go pick up camp."

"All the supplies left behind are ours, so we can handle it ourselves if you and Bill want to start heading back home. No sense everyone wasting the entire day tomorrow. Especially with Jo waiting for Mommy and Daddy back home."

Bill nodded carefully. "If you don't mind…"

Dean watched his mom smile. "Not at all."

They exchanged goodbyes and watched the Harvelles drive off. Then Dean turned to his mom. "I'm guessing you sent them off so that we could take the angel transport back to camp tomorrow."

"No way am I hiking again."

Dean laughed, but then it became a yawn as his exhaustion took over. "Sounds good to me. So, I say we go back home for the night and come back tomorrow to clean up."

His mom picked him up and kissed his forehead. "Wonderful idea. I've had enough camping to last a looong time."

Dean put his head down on her shoulder and was starting to drift off even as Cas touched his back to transport them home.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Sorry to all of you hoping that the Harvelles would learn the secret but it wasn't in the cards... yet. Up next, a short hunt that should be kinda fun. It'll only be 2-3 chapters and then we'll be taking a turn for the dark stuff... Oh, and Sam fans don't worry, you guys have some good things headed your way soon... Please leave a review and let me know what you thought, thanks._


	71. Unfinished Hunt

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone. Hope you all had a wonderful weekend. Just to let everyone know, the creatures in the following hunt ARE the same as the critter featured in my story 'Easter Egg Hunter'. While I highly recommend reading it because it is awesome, you don't need to know anything about it to read this story. Now I want to thank savannaharaiza5, angelofheaven001, liebedero, MusicLover19, FireChildSlytherin5, numb3rs mystery, Serie11, if-llamas-could-fly, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, VGiselleH, AlElizabeth, Jasper6509, Hasmik Aharonyan, Amara Rose 4 Ever, LilyBolt, Nyx Ro, ouran1996, LeeMarieJack, XdarkkissX, Mysterious Prophetess, Neumzie, Gustin azza, BranchSuper, Wunjo, WhalesEverywhere, pollypocket911, Eliza Ghost, BelievesInNargles, Lady No Da 201, dreamerlc, xAnita88xx, RoseDragon666, and MeemeBear for their wonderful reviews. You guys seriously rock! _

**Chapter Seventy-One: Unfinished Hunt **

"Dean Winchester! Just because you seem to think that you are our resident genius, it does not mean that you can sleep during class!"

Dean lifted his head up off of his desk to face the rather annoyed-looking expression on Mr. Pearce's face. The teacher had had it out for him since the first day of school, not liking the idea of having a seven year old in his fourth grade class, and was trying to make Dean's life miserable. Of course, compared to demons and the like, an irate teacher was nothing, but still, the boy started off each day by quietly whispering 'Christo' in the man's presence just in case.

"First off, I wasn't sleeping. I just had my head down because the lights were bugging my eyes. And second, I never claimed to be a genius. But thanks for the compliment." Dean responded.

Several kids started to giggle, which only served to further piss off the teacher. Yeah, his relations with Mr. Pearce were not going to improve.

"Well, why don't you keep your oh so delicate eyes up so you can see what I'm writing on the blackboard?"

"Because you wrote that up within the first five minutes of class and I already copied it into my notebook." Dean informed him, showing him the page where he'd written down the information on the original thirteen states.

Mr. Pearce tore the page from his notebook, crumbled it up, and threw it into the trash. "And now you can do it again."

Dean glared daggers into the asshole's back as the teacher turned to the blackboard and erased all of the writing.

After the way the previous day's hunt had gone, he really didn't need this crap. They'd found the nest of ocrases early Sunday but the small creatures had scattered; some fleeing while others had attacked. The Winchesters had done their best to take them all out, but it wasn't easy. Despite their small size, ocrases were hard to kill. Their bodies needed to be almost completely destroyed for them to stop moving. Usually being burned to ashes, chopped to pieces, or blown to bits were the preferred kill methods. They were also really vicious and once they got near their prey, their usually tiny mouths would stretch into a huge gaping maw filled with razor sharp teeth. The name 'ocras' translated from Irish to mean 'hunger' and the little beasts constantly tried to take a bite of whoever they got close to. Dean's ankle was proof of that. In the end, they'd gotten most of the nest, but some had gotten away and although they'd search well into the early morning hours (leading to Dean's aversion to the classroom lights this day), they'd never caught up to the runaways. Which was incredibly bad news. When more than one ocras got away, they'd hide somewhere where no hunter would find them and they'd spend the next six to eight months mating. And those things did it like rabbits. By the spring, there would be a whole new nest and that would be the only time they'd come back out of hiding. And then the Winchesters would have to start from square one.

"Mr. Pearce, the freak is bleeding." Collin called out.

Dean looked over to the moron who sat in the row to his right and then down to his ankle. Sure enough, there was blood leaking through his sock and dripping down his shoe to start a small puddle onto the floor. Great. Perfect. Just what he needed.

Mr. Pearce walked down the aisle and stopped in front of Dean's desk. "Mr. Winchester, what is the meaning of this?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Like he was bleeding on the floor on purpose, right? "Sorry if my bleeding is interrupting your class, sir. I got bit by a dog yesterday. Was in the ER until late last night. Guess it opened back up. I'll go to the nurse's office, if that's alright with you."

"Watch the attitude, Winchester. Will someone volunteer to go with him to the nurse's office?"

Dean suppressed a groan. He knew that most of his classmates wouldn't want to do it. They were two years older than him and considered him a baby and a freak. Some didn't seem to mind him, even finding his comments funny, but none were really his friends. The last time someone volunteered to be his partner on an assignment, it was for an opportunity to try and bully him. That didn't end well for the bully.

"I'll go with him." A pretty, dark haired girl in the back of the class offered.

"Okay, Emily." The teacher nodded. "Just walk him there, and then come right back. Take your bag with you, Mr. Winchester. I think you're done for the day. And I want you to make sure you do all the work for tomorrow."

"Yes, sir. Have a lovely day. Can't wait to see your smiling face again tomorrow." Dean favored the jerk with his biggest grin as he limped out of the classroom.

As soon as they were in the hall, Emily started to giggle. "Oh my God, you are such an idiot."

Dean looked at her and smirked. "Really? Most people seem to think I'm smart or some crap like that."

Her eyes widened at his language. "No dummy, only an idiot would talk to Mr. Pearce the way you do. Especially when he never liked you to begin with."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah well, if he never liked me, I had nothing to lose to begin with, right?"

She returned his shrug. "I guess. But maybe if you sucked up to him, he'd come around."

"No way. Not my style."

Emily looked at him. "What _is_ your style?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are weird, Dean. You are really smart, but you aren't like the other smart kids. You're too young for our class, but you don't act like a second grader. You dress, and sometimes talk, like a badass, but you aren't a jerk. And you get hurt a lot too. Like, that scar on your face. Or the car accident you were in last year." (Oh yeah, the wonderful cover story to explain the extensive bruises he'd come to school with after the whole shifter thing last year. Luckily, some forged papers had backed up that story and held off any questions.) "You're just one strange kid."

"Is that why you wanted to walk me to the nurse's office? To try and figure out the mystery that is Dean Winchester? Or were you just looking for an excuse to get out of Mr. Boring-Ass's class for a bit?"

Emily laughed. "Actually a bit of both."

Dean shrugged. "Works for me."

"So, what's your story then?"

"I'm a really weird genius." Dean responded. "Who apparently is also a bit of an idiot. And I have really crappy luck."

"Wow. So glad we had this talk."

"Aren't you?" They reached the nurse's office and Dean turned to face her. "Well, thanks for walking me here. Might've gotten lost without you and ended up wandering these halls for the rest of my life."

"You really are an idiot." Emily giggled again and then leaned down, since she was slightly taller, to place a kiss on Dean's cheek. "I hope your ankle gets better. Stay away from any more dogs. And I hope you don't get rabies or anything."

"Uh… thanks?" Dean smiled. "See you tomorrow." He watched the girl turn and walk back down the hall before entering the office. Well, he guessed that not everyone in his class disliked him. But they all definitely thought he was a bit odd. Being a thirty year old hunter in a class of nine year olds would do that.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

It was just a week after Sammy's fourth birthday when they got the call from Bobby letting them know that there were signs that the ocrases were done laying low to mate and rebuild their population and were now ready to go back to munching on humans. While in hiding, an ocras will make do with eating insects, rodents, and the occasional runaway household pet, but nothing satisfies its hunger like eating people. Also, one of the creepiest and most disturbing things about the ocrases is their ability to replicate human speech… sort of. The little critters only speak a few words, mostly to request food, and they typically mispronounce the first letter. But they can only start to talk after they've consumed at least a portion of a human brain. How exactly this process works, no one was quite sure, but the very idea made Dean feel ill.

The young hunter was up in his room getting dressed as his mom was calling him out of school for the day. It was an 'all hands on deck' kind of job and since it was only Tuesday, the hunt couldn't wait until the weekend. Both Dean and his dad were calling in sick to go out on the job, and they were even taking Bobby with them this time. Missouri was coming over the house to watch Sammy while they were gone.

"You going to school, Dean?"

"Yep, Sammy."

"But Mommy said she calling you out."

Damn the kid and his eavesdropping. "She changed her mind 'cause I'm feeling better."

"Oh. Who she calling?" Sammy asked.

"I don't know. Maybe she's making sure Missouri is still coming over to watch you today."

Sammy made a face. "Where Mommy going today?"

Dean shrugged. "I think she's volunteering at some boring women's thing. You know… chick stuff."

"Oh." Sammy nodded. "Why can't I go to Unca Bobby's?"

"He's gotta work on cars all day."

"Okay."

"What's up, short-stuff? Don't you like Missouri?"

"She okay. But… Dean, she knows when I take cookies."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, that sucks. But she likes you, so she won't tell Mom. And if you give her the big, sad eyes, and tell her you want a cookie, she'll probably just give you one before lunch anyways."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Awesome!"

Dean grinned and ruffled his little brother's hair. Then he sat down on his bed to pull on his boots. He winced a little as he laced them up. His toes felt a bit squished. He'd gone through a growth spurt practically overnight and now the damned things were a bit too small on him. But they were still better than the sneakers his mom had gotten for him at the beginning of the school year. And he wasn't even going to mention the fact that his jeans didn't cover his ankles, or that his t-shirts showed off his stomach if he reached his arms up over his head. Dean's mom had already warned him that this weekend she was going to be dragging him off to the department stores to get him a whole new wardrobe.

Once he was done, Dean stomped down the stairs, purposefully making more noise than needed, Sammy right behind him. The smaller boy copied his movements.

"Boys! Keep it down!" Their mom yelled. "We don't stampede in the house."

"Sorry, Mom." Dean grinned, he hopped into the dining room chair.

"No you aren't, boy. You made all that racket on purpose."

Dean turned to see Missouri standing in the room. "Prove it."

She smacked him none too gently on the back of his head. "You watch it, Dean Winchester."

"Mommy says don't hit." Sammy informed her.

"And your mommy is right. I'm sorry." Missouri responded.

Dean smiled at her smugly. "Wow, never heard you say _that_ before."

"Dean." His mom interrupted. "We're almost ready, so if you want to eat…"

The boy nodded. He reached across the table and grabbed a waffle and crammed half of it into his mouth.

"Hey, smaller bites, son. Don't choke." His dad scolded as he walked past to grab a cup of coffee.

"'Kay." Dean mumbled around the mouthful of food.

Sammy giggled.

Less than a minute later, Dean's breakfast was done and he was ready to go. He got up out of the chair and waved to his little brother. "Bye Sammy, see ya later."

"Bye Dean! Have a good day at school!"

His parents, Cas, and him gathered by the front door with their bag of gear they'd gotten together and then the angel placed his hands on them. They'd transport to Bobby's house to pick up the older hunter and then proceed to the old farmhouse where the ocrases' nest was suspected to be. Then they'd finish off the vicious little critters once and for all.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Not too much happening here, but the action's about to pick up... and possibly the casualty count as well... So please take a moment and leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	72. Hungry

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! I'm back already! Just because I was asked, I'll say again that the creatures in this hunt are from my other story 'Easter Egg Hunter' and yes, they are my own creation. I know, I'm demented... I want to thank lauretteHP, angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, liebedero, Dev's Inferno, if-llamas-could-fly, FireChildSlytherin5, AlElizabeth, savannaharaiza5, Gustin azza, holmesiswheretheheartis, Nyx Ro, LilyBolt, ShirleyPositive72, MusicLover19, Hasmik Aharonyan, LeeMarieJack, laurie31, Jenna, crimsoneleven, spn-is-my-addiction, Star-Simple-Dust, Amara Rose 4 Ever, guest, Architectoftheuniverse, Mysterious Prophetess, guest, samiam13, Eliza Ghost, Invader Kiwi, Jasper6509, teddybear17, BranchSuper, XdarkkissX, drsummers, Pizzapig, Serie11, ouran1996, Lelouch's right hand, laurieglory, and sanshal for their awesome reviews. You guys really made my day! _

**Chapter Seventy-Two: Hungry **

The old farmhouse was the very definition of dilapidated. The roof, what was left of it anyway, was caving in and the chimney had long since collapsed. Most of the windows were broken and no one had even bothered to come along and board them up. The walls were rotted, crumbling, buckling outwards as if no longer able to hold up their own weight. The plants around the house had overgrown and taken over, twisting their way in through any open spaces. It looked like a deathtrap.

"That place is so gonna collapse in on our heads." Dean echoed John's thoughts.

He looked down at his son as the boy stood holding a shotgun and staring ahead at the farmhouse. Dean wore a machete strapped to his back and a dangerous expression on his face. John knew that the boy blamed himself for the fact that some of the ocrases had escaped last time, even though they'd determined that Dean had been nowhere near the ones that had slipped past them. They had managed to get past John, although no one blamed the man since he had been preoccupied with the massive wound in his side left behind by an ocras's massive jaws.

"Maybe we should just burn it to the ground with the ocrases inside." John suggested.

Mary shook her head. "No, if the farmhouse has a dirt floor root cellar and they're down there, there's a chance that they could survive a fire by burrowing. We need to go in."

Bobby scanned the area. "Well, the good news is that there ain't no garages, barns, or other separate buildings to check out. So they'll all be together."

Dean nodded. "I think some of us should stay outside to catch any that try to flee. We already know that they will."

"Good idea." John approved. "I'll go in."

"I'm going with you." Dean piped up. "That way, if there's any spots where the floor doesn't look too stable, I can walk across it. I weigh the least."

"Alright." John agreed. "The rest of you stay outside. There's a lot of spots where these things can try and slip out and we'll need all three of you to make sure they don't get away. I don't want to be doing this again in another few months."

The two stepped carefully up onto the porch, the old rotted wood creaking horrendously. John pushed the front door open and it fell right off of its hinges and crashed to the ground. The doorknob rolled across the floor and came to a rest about halfway across the ugly kitchen tiles.

The hunter glanced around the room, looking for any signs of movement and checking to see if the floor seemed safe. Up against the left wall was a sink positioned over some old cabinets that were all missing their doors. Nothing was inside but some shredded pieces of… well, he wasn't sure what it had been, but it was now a rodent's nest. But if the ocrases had moved into this old farmhouse, then the rodents were probably long since eaten. Next to the sink was an old rusty stove. On the right wall was a disgustingly yellowed refrigerator and what was left of a kitchen table; half a table top and two legs. Straight ahead there was an open cellar door and wooden staircase leading up.

Noting no movement in the room, John motioned to the cellar door. Dean nodded. There was no reason for them to check upstairs. While an ocras would definitely pursue its prey if they ran upstairs or climbed something higher up, the little creatures typically avoided heights whenever possible and would not choose to breed up high if they had a basement to go to instead.

John stepped forwards, but the floor creaked and then gave out, the tiles crumbling under him and falling down into the basement below. The hunter jumped back and narrowly avoided ending up taking the quick route down. He bumped into Dean and the boy stumbled. Somehow they both managed to keep their footing.

"That was close." John commented.

"Let me go first, Dad. I can check to make sure the floor is stable before you walk across it."

He hated the idea, but it made sense. "Okay. But be careful."

Dean nodded, and crept forward. The young hunter held his shotgun at the ready, and kept his gaze down, watching his every step carefully. John watched his son walk carefully around the hole in the kitchen floor. He followed, placing each foot gently and shifting his weight slowly. About halfway across the room, Dean froze as the tile under his foot started to make a particularly loud creaking noise. John knew that if his heavier weight had landed on that spot, the floor would've collapsed underneath him. He watched his son slowly back up and take a step to the right. Then the boy proceeded. It took longer than the father/son team would've liked, especially with the fact that there was a chance that the ocrases could've been tipped off already since they'd certainly not made a quiet entry so far, but they finally made it to the cellar door.

John looked over Dean's head and down the stairs. They were cement, so there would be no chance of them giving out like the rotted wooden ones leading upstairs. But they wouldn't be very silent to walk down. There was light downstairs, which must be coming through some windows high up on the walls down there. They'd seen some tiny rectangular windows near the ground from the outside, but hadn't dared to look through them, in case the ocrases caught a glimpse of them. John was about to insist that he take the lead to go down, but his son had already started descending the stairs and unless the older hunter wanted to push past the boy, he'd have to take up position in the back.

At the bottom of the stairs, Dean hesitated, sweeping the room with his weapon. John raised his own shotgun, keeping it just above the boy's head and scanning the room. At first it was hard to see anything, since the room was so terribly cluttered. There was a large freezer chest, old broken shelves, a rusted metal workbench, rotted and moldy wooden crates filled with god knows what, and all sorts of broken furniture scattered all over the large open area. And the whole place smelled awful.

Then John caught a flash of movement off to his left. He tracked it with his shotgun and saw that Dean didn't, obviously realizing that his dad had it covered. The hunter squinted and saw the creature step out into the dim light. It was slightly less than three feet tall and seemed smaller as it crouched there with its knees bent to the point where its short legs were almost folded in half. Its long arms led to large hands that hung to lie on the dirt floor. Its head was about two sizes too big for its scrawny body and slightly misshapen. Two red eyes sat above a tiny mouth and there was no visible nose. Cat-like ears stuck out at odd angles from the sides of its head and twitched constantly. Though it was naked, there was no indication of gender.

"Fun-gree." It whined. "Foooood"

"Feeeeeaaaaat." A cry from the dark joined in.

"Fuuunnn-greeeee." Yet another moaned.

"Feat! Feat!" A fourth called.

Hungry. Food. Eat. Yep, they were definitely sounding the dinner bells. John saw Dean tense. He remember the boy telling him before their previous ocras hunt that he'd encountered one of these things when he'd been just a kid the first time around, in the original timeline. It had been around Easter when he'd been seven years old, but this time around Bobby had called a different hunter in on the case because the Winchesters didn't do hunts during the holidays. So, John hadn't even heard of an ocras until the fall when Bobby had called and asked for help. It seemed that the hunter he'd called back around Easter had let some get away and they'd done some breeding and had a whole new nest. But that hunter was no longer around (he'd made a mistake on a skinwalker hunt and it was the last mistake he'd ever make) so Bobby had contacted John for help. And that was how they got to where they were now. But Dean still seemed to be a bit freaked by the creatures from his encounter with them all those years ago. John wished he'd open up and give some details about that time, but it was impossible to get the boy to talk sometimes.

"Dude, let's blow the crap outta these things." Dean suggested.

John saw no reason not to. He aimed at the spot high on the ocras's chest and pulled the trigger. The thin creature practically exploded; its arms flew off, its head detached, and its chest blew apart. The bottom part of it collapsed almost intact, but with the top part of the monster gone, it had no life left in it.

One came running straight at them and Dean shot it in the same spot with similar results. If shot too low, the ocras wouldn't die and would continue on its pursuit of food. Even a shot right in its head wouldn't kill the creature, unless the head was completely blown to pieces. It was rumored that you could cut their skulls open and remove their brains and they'd still keep on coming. John didn't really want to test that theory.

Seconds later, several more ocrases started to scramble out of their hiding spots. They were everywhere. In the crates, the freezer, the shelves, the furniture. They scampered across the room; some headed for the windows, some for the hunters. Dean took aim and fired, stumbling only slightly with the force of the kickback, but bracing himself well. John fired too, holding position right behind his son. Two more ocrases exploded.

"Fuuuun!" Run? Was it yelling to run? "Fun-gree!" No, just announcing its hunger again.

John reloaded his weapon and took aim. Dean had already reloaded and fired. They kept it up as long as they could; shooting, reloading, and shooting some more, but there were so many of those damned things. Their position was going to get overrun soon.

"Dean…"

"I see 'em."

The last five of the ocrases were closing in too quickly. There was no way they'd be able to shoot them all. Dean took his last shot and then dropped the gun and pulled the machete off his back. John took his last two shots. The first was dead on, but the second missed its mark. Maybe it was because he was getting nervous, but the shot was too low and the ocras only had its bottom half blown off. The creature pulled its bloody, gore-streaked body closer to the hunters. Dean hopped off the steps and faced down the two and a half approaching creatures. John was just getting his own machete out when he saw his son hacking one of the ocrases to pieces. But then the half-ocras reached out and snatched Dean by the ankle while he was still bent over the creature he'd killed, and pulled the boy to the dirt floor. The small hunter hit the ground with a cry of pain and tried to pull away but the thing was holding him tight. Then its small mouth stretched out impossibly large and John caught a glimpse of its razor sharp teeth as the creature pulled itself forwards to take a bite out of Dean.

John rushed forward, holding his machete up, ready to chop the ocras to pieces before it could eat his son but then something ran at him from his right. The hunter turned just in time to see a small creature leap at him. He'd forgotten about the fifth ocras. And now the little bastard was going to try and chew on him.

John threw his hands up to protect his face as the ocras crashed into him and knocked him to the ground. The little monster bit into his arm and John screamed out in shock and pain. Why the hell did these things have to like the taste of him? He knew better than to try and pull away this time, though. The last thing he needed was to have the sharp teeth tear a gaping hole in his arm. Instead, he used his right arm to sneak the machete around behind the creature and brought the blade down into its neck. He didn't have enough force behind the blow to take the head off, but it did startle the ocras into opening its mouth. John pulled his now bleeding arm away and rolled to pin the monster under him. Then he sat up, dragged his weapon out from under the ocras, and proceeded to chop the creature into tiny pieces.

Once that was done, the hunter took a deep breath and looked over to his son. He froze at the sight that greeted him. Dean was doing his best to fend off the half-ocras but wasn't having much luck. And it took John only a second to realize why. When Dean had been grabbed by the ankle and had fallen, he'd somehow ended up landing on the blade of his machete and was bleeding pretty heavily from a gash just above his left knee. Between the pain and blood loss, John's son was losing the struggle against the monster that was trying to eat him.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **You know you all missed me hurting Dean... It's been almost ten chapters since I've injured him severely on a hunt and... Wait are those hellhounds that I hear right outside my door? Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	73. Finish the Job

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! A third update this week for all you lovely people that didn't kill me for that cliffhanger that left Dean injured! I want to thank Serie11, guest, celestialstarynight, if-llamas-could-fly, Sanshal, savannaharaiza5, liebedero, Nyx Ro, nlrlcsw, angelofheaven001, Hasmik Aharonyan, pollypocket911, Gustin azza, Jasper6509, Lelouch's right hand, LilyBolt, WestboundSign, LeeMarieJack, deansass, laurie31, Amara Rose 4 Ever, crimsoneleven, Mysterious Prophetess, BranchSuper, guest, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, samiam13, AlElizabeth, Pizzapig, VGiselleH, angelwings822, waywardbabe, guest, OnyxDay, RoseDragon666, and Tomboy15103 for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome!_

**Chapter Seventy-Three: Finish the Job**

Dean had been keeping an eye on the other ocras as he'd been chopping the hell out of his target, but had forgotten about the half of one that his dad had shot. Damned rookie mistake. He'd known that the shot hadn't killed it, but had thought that it would've slowed it down enough that it wouldn't be as much of a threat and so he had dismissed it, and now it was going to cost him his life. Because the bastard had grabbed his ankle and dragged him to the dirt floor and he'd somehow landed on his damned machete on the way down. Now his weapon was just out of his reach, his leg was bleeding out all over the dirt, and the creepy-ass half-ocras was trying to eat his face off. Just another day in freakin' paradise.

The young hunter groaned as he pushed the creature's misshapen head back away from him as far as he could. The ocras had its mouth stretched open wide and was trying its hardest to get close enough to take a bite out of the boy, but Dean was using what strength he had left to keep it away. It was awkward trying to hold on to the thing and not get his hand inside its mouth by accident. If the monster's sharp teeth pierced his hand, it would ruin bones, muscles, and tendons and would probably screw up his fine motor skills for the rest of his life. Not a great thing for a hunter who relied on such things to stay alive and protect others. But Dean knew he wasn't going to be able to last much longer. Then again, he just needed to hold out until his dad finished with the last whole ocras and he'd have help.

Suddenly the ocras's long pink tongue darted out and started to lap up the blood from Dean's leg. Okay, that was just gross. Then Dean gasped as he felt the tongue enter the wound, pushing past the skin and muscle. The ocras made a humming noise of pure pleasure as the boy gagged in disgust. Then pain flared as the creature's tongue dug even deeper into his wound. He felt the tongue moving around inside his leg, rubbing roughly against his muscles and ligaments. Dean pushed hard against the small monster in a panic, his entire left knee was awash in waves of agony. He wanted the creature off of him and its nasty tongue out of his body NOW.

Dean shifted his right hand up and grasped at the ocras's eye, gouging it from its socket. The creature shrieked and its tongue retracted from the boy's open wound. Dean made a mental note to clean the gash out real well. Like, with ten bottles of peroxide. At least.

But now that the ocras was no longer tasting its prey, the little monster redoubled its efforts to try and take a huge bite out of Dean. And the young hunter was starting to tire from pain, blood loss, and just sheer exhaustion. His elbows started to buckle and the creature's face came closer and closer. Dean smelled its hot, rancid breath and let out a small groan of pain and despair.

_Dad, please hurry!_

As if he had heard his son's thoughts, Dean's dad suddenly appeared over him. Dean watched as his father reached down and pulled the half-ocras off of him and threw it to the floor a couple feet away with such force that the monster was momentarily stunned. Dean saw the thing's entrails hanging out, blood leaking out all over the place. And then his dad was standing over the creature hacking it into pieces until there was nothing left of it.

Dean closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing past the pain and residual terror. It was over. It was all over.

"Dean? Dean, are you okay?"

"Yeah… my leg… it just… it hurts." Dean answered without opening his eyes.

"Yeah, buddy. You got it cut on your machete. It looks pretty deep, but it'll be alright. We'll get you patched up. Just lie still, okay?" His father's voice was gentle.

Dean nodded. "'Kay, Dad."

He heard the sound of cloth tearing and then felt a stab of fresh pain as his leg was moved. Dean gritted his teeth to keep from screaming as his dad wrapped his wound up tightly. Only when he was sure it was completely over did the boy open his eyes. He saw his father hovering over him with a concerned look in his eyes. Dean forced a weak smile to his face. It obviously didn't look all that reassuring though, because his dad pulled him into a tight hug.

"Are you okay, son?" His dad asked again.

"I will be. Did we get them all?"

"Most. I saw a few get out the windows, but nothing that the others can't handle."

Dean nodded into his dad's shoulder. "You okay, Dad?"

"Yeah. One of those creatures bit my arm, but it's not bad. Not even bleeding anymore."

"Let me see." Dean requested.

"I said it's not bad." His dad insisted.

Before Dean could protest, his father stood up, easily lifting both his son and the weapons. The injured boy didn't even bother arguing, knowing that he would have a hell of a time making his way back up the stairs by himself. And the pain in his leg was enough to convince him that he didn't even want to try. Tough guy image be damned. He wrapped his arms around his dad while the older hunter gathered up the rest of their stuff and made sure that the rest of the room was truly empty. Then the father and son left the cellar.

Once upstairs, his dad had to put him down since their combined weight would be too much for the old floor to handle. Dean limped his way clumsily across the kitchen, trying hard not to make little noises of pain with every step. They managed to avoid any weak spots, which was good because completing the hunt only to die by falling through rotted floorboards and breaking his neck on the cellar floor bellow would just suck.

As he approached the front doorway, he prayed that his mom, Cas, and Bobby had gotten rid of the rest of the ocrases because he sure as hell didn't want to go through this ever again.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

Castiel had pulled his angel sword out just moments after Dean and his father had disappeared into the old farmhouse. Mary and Bobby were on either side of him, both holding shotguns and wearing machetes strapped to themselves. They had offered the angel a shotgun but he had declined. He had gotten much better with firearms over the last few years, but still felt much more comfortable with his blade.

It had been over a full minute since Dean and John had gone inside and there was no indication of any confrontation yet. Castiel wished that he had been the one that had gone in with his young friend. He knew that Dean could take care of himself, and that John would certainly watch out for his own son, but that didn't stop him from worrying. The ocrases were particularly vicious and facing them in an enclosed area like the cellar wasn't going to be pleasant.

Then Castiel heard a gunshot followed closely by another. Then a third. And a fourth. Suddenly, what little glass was left in the windows near the ground was shattered as five ocrases scrambled out. Bobby and Mary waited until the creatures were standing until they took their shots, since they had to shoot in one particular spot to kill the little monsters. Once the moment was right, they both fired at almost the same exact time.

Castiel made certain to stay out of their line of fire as he swung his angel blade at the nearest ocras. His first swipe took off the creature's head, the second and third removed the arms, and a fourth cleaved the torso in half. He'd been instructed to be very thorough. The pieces of the little monster hit the ground with a spray of blood and gore, but Castiel was already moving away.

The angel turned and saw two more ocrases climbing out of the windows. That meant seven had made it out and three had been killed so far. Castiel kept his eyes on the remaining four. They couldn't afford to let any get away. This was going to end today.

Two more were cut down by shotgun fire as the angel stepped to his left and quickly chopped up an ocras that was trying to run past him. The little creature had been fast and had almost made it. The thing had been smart enough to stay low but was making the low frantic noise that the ocrases made when they didn't yet know how to talk.

The last one turned and tried to actually get back into the farmhouse. But Bobby had reloaded his shotgun and took care of it before it made it back to the broken window. The three of them waited with their weapons held at the ready and their eyes trained on the farmhouse, waiting for more to come out. But nothing happened.

"Well, that's a bit anticlimactic." Bobby grumbled.

"Most of them must've been hungry and made a run for John and Dean instead of the windows." Mary explained. "The last batch we faced had just eaten. They were more interested in escape than food."

"Perhaps we should make our way inside and provide assistance." Castiel suggested.

Mary shook her head. "No. If even one ocras gets away it can cause a lot of death to the surrounding towns. And if two or more get away, they'll start a whole new nest. We can't risk abandoning our positions."

Castiel nodded reluctantly. Still he was moments away from disobeying and teleporting down into the cellar to check on his friend when he saw the small hunter limp carefully out of the front doorway. The angel took in the bloody makeshift bandage wrapped around the boy's left leg right above his knee, the pale skin, the slight shakiness, and the pain-filled expression on Dean's face and he wished that he'd insisted on going in as backup.

When they'd reached the bottom of the rotted front stairs, John picked Dean up and carried him over to the rest of the group.

"What happened?" Mary asked, before Castiel could inquire about the same thing.

"A slight mishap." John responded. "One of the ocrases grabbed him and he got cut by his machete when he fell. We'll need to give him a few stitches when we get him home but he'll be fine."

"And someone's gotta check Dad's arm." Dean piped up. "He got bit."

"I told you I'm fine." John insisted.

"Stubborn ass Winchesters." Bobby muttered. "So I take it ya got 'em all inside?"

"Yeah." John replied. "You took care of all the escapees?"

"Yes." Castiel responded.

"Awesome." Dean commented. "Now, not to sound like I'm complaining or anything, but can we get the hell outta here? I wanna stop bleeding out all over the ground."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **And another hunt ends successfully! I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. And be back on Monday for the start of a new storyline! Lots of Dean and Sammy, a familiar face, some twists and turns, a bit of danger, and keep a flashlight handy for upcoming chapters because it may get dark..._


	74. The Start of a New Routine

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Well, they all survived the last hunt! So, now we are ready to start a new chapter in the Winchesters' lives! But first, I want to thank angelofheaven001, Dev's Inferno, Serie11, if-llamas-could-fly, savannaharaiza5, AlElizabeth, Eliza Ghost, OnxyDay, Nyx Ro, Mysterious Prophetess, LilyBolt, guest, LeeMarieJack, crimsoneleven, Gustin azza, guest, Lelouch's right hand, BranchSuper, VGiselleH, liebedero, RoseDragon666, Lady No Da 201, Jasper6509, Drew, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, deansass, FireChildSlytherin5, Mizunou, LuciferWithShades, ouran1996, Dream's Abyss, murtaghxblaiseyum, Silvermoon of Forestclan, and drsummers for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! _

**Chapter Seventy-Four: Start of a New Routine **

Mrs. Jennifer Bradley sat at her desk and looked over her class list one last time. There were less students than usual this year, due to the city council's redistricting, which worked out better for her since it would allow her to give the children each more of her time. With a full compliment of twenty students in previous years and only one teaching assistant to help her, she felt like some of her students never got the help they had deserved. But this year, there were only fourteen children. And one of them she recognized. Well, she knew the last name at least. It was one she'd never forget.

Winchester. But this time it Sam, not Dean Winchester in her class. It had been four years since she'd taught that exceptionally bright, yet very odd little boy. Jennifer had heard about him from other teachers. She knew that he'd skipped both the first and third grades and that although he was only nine years old now he was already in sixth grade. Which meant that he was leaving the elementary school and going next door to Lawrence Middle School. She hoped that the older kids left him alone.

The teacher was just about to go back to her last minute preparations when she heard footsteps enter her classroom. Jennifer looked up and smiled.

"Wow, looks like the power suits are a thing of the past, huh, Mrs. Bradley?" Dean Winchester asked with a smirk. He was taller than he'd been when he was in her class, still a bit thin but now with what looked to be some lean muscles. The boy had the same short spiky hair and large, green eyes. He still had a sprinkling of freckles and the light scar on his face. Dean wore jeans and a black t-shirt with a gray Batman symbol on the chest, his outfit completed by a pair of black boots.

She ignored his comment on her choice in wardrobe, having decided two years ago to switch from the uncomfortable but professional-looking suits to lightweight skirts and matching tops, and stood to greet him. "Dean, aren't you a little old to be in my kindergarten class?"

"I thought maybe you missed me after all these years."

Jennifer smiled. "Actually, I have. But I've been hearing a lot about you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't believe a word the other teachers have said. I'm not _that_ bad. Really."

The kindergarten teacher caught a glimpse of another, smaller boy behind Dean, but couldn't get a good look at him. "Who are you hiding behind your back, Dean?"

The boy's face shifted from the joking smirk to a genuine smile. "Mrs. Bradley, I want you to meet Sammy." The older brother turned and knelt down. "It's okay, Sammy. She's nice. I promise."

When Dean stood back up and faced her once again, the smaller boy stepped around to stand next to him but reached up to clutch his brother's hand tightly. Sammy couldn't have looked more different from his big brother. His hair was chestnut brown, not dirty blonde and was worn much longer. The little boy's eyes were hazel and they were brighter than Dean's, less guarded. His smile was shy as opposed to his brother's cocky one. Sammy was dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a tan t-shirt with a green cartoonish dinosaur on it. Normal kid stuff, unlike what Jennifer was used to seeing on Dean.

"Hi, Sammy." She greeted.

"Hi." He responded.

"Welcome to the class. But you know that the other kids are lining up outside." She looked at Dean while saying that.

The older boy shrugged. "I know the whole first day routine. But I'll be dropping him off here everyday before I hop the fence to get to my classes, so I figured I'd start it off today and say 'hi' at the same time. Don't worry. I let Miss Irving know he was here."

"Actually, she's Mrs. Kerry now."

He seemed taken aback. "Dude, someone married Miss Too-Much-Caffeine?"

Jennifer had to work hard not to laugh. Best not to encourage his attitude. "Dean, that's not polite. We don't talk that way about people."

"Dean does." Sammy commented.

An earlier comment finally caught her attention. "And I hope you aren't planning to _actually_ hop the fence to get to the middle school. Please go around and use the front gate."

"Of course." Dean nodded. Jennifer knew that he'd be hopping the fence.

"And you do know that Sammy will have to be picked up by an adult, right?"

"Yeah, Cas and me are gonna pick him up."

"Cas and _I_." She corrected. "That's your uncle, right?"

Sammy nodded. "Yeah. He always goes to school with Dean and can get us home real fast."

Dean nudged Sammy. "Cas has a lot of free time so he doesn't mind taking me to school. And he knows a real good shortcut to get us home quickly."

The teacher looked between the two of them and decided that there was a story there but that she wasn't going to get any more of it at that moment. "Well, it was good to see you again, Dean. And I'm glad to know that you've been doing so well in your studies. You're a bright kid; don't let it go to waste."

"I'm nothing. Wait 'till you see Sammy here in action. This little guy's awesome." Dean ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. Then he looked down at his brother. "I gotta go, kiddo. Be good, okay?"

"Please stay, Dean."

"I can't. But I'll be back at the end of the day to pick you up. Love ya, Sammy."

"Love you too, Dean. Bye."

Dean waved to his little brother as he walked out of the classroom.

Jennifer watched him go and then turned to the little boy standing awkwardly by the door.

"Come sit down, Sammy. You get your choice of seats."

The child smiled up at her shyly and nodded. "I'm looking forward to school, Mrs. Bradley. Dean says you're really smart. And that your class is nice."

She internally laughed at the idea of those praises coming from Dean Winchester's mouth. But Sammy seemed like a nice, polite, and smart little boy. If perhaps a little shy.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. And maybe you can make friends with some of the other children."

"That would be nice." Sammy nodded.

She was a bit surprised to hear him say that. In the entire time Dean was in her class, he never showed the slightest interest in even talking with any of the other students, let alone befriending them.

"Well, I'm sure they'll like you a lot."

"Dean says everyone likes me. He's the best big brother ever!"

The teacher smiled. "He sounds like it. And you seem like a wonderful little brother."

He ducked his head and blushed. "Thank you, Mrs. Bradley."

As the bell rang and her teaching assistant led the rest of the class into the room, Jennifer found herself looking forward to another year with a Winchester in her class.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

The distance between the elementary school and the middle school was eaten up quickly as Dean ran as fast as his legs could take him. Sure Cas could've teleported him there much faster, but he liked the idea of running there on his own. It was great exercise and kinda exhilarating. So he pushed himself even faster and when the boy reached the fence, he jumped and grabbed onto the metal with both his hands and feet. Dean scaled the eight foot fence with no trouble at all and flipped over the top, landing on the ground in a crouch. He sprung to his feet and continued onwards to the large brick building.

Dean slowed only when he reached the walkway leading to the front steps. Most students were still milling about out front, talking with their friends. The first bell wouldn't ring for about ten minutes. Dean had dropped Sammy off a bit early to make sure he'd get to class on time. The boy shifted his backpack as he climbed the steps and felt all eyes on him. Of course the other kids knew who he was. He'd been in some of their classes the past couple of years and they loved to gossip to their friends. A nine year old 'weird genius' starting at the middle school was definitely going to be the talk of the entire school. He wondered how much more they'd be saying if they had any clue as to who or what he really was.

The boy's bathroom was empty when Dean walked in. He dropped his pack on the ground by the sink and stood there for a moment, staring at his reflection. Sometimes he found it odd to look at himself in the mirror. It wasn't the age thing anymore. He'd gotten use to not seeing a thirty year old staring back at him years ago. But the weird thing was that he didn't look exactly like he had when he was nine years old the first time around. He vaguely remembered what he looked like back then, and even had the photos that Cas had brought from the original timeline (and one was from when he was just shy of ten years old) and the person in the mirror was not the same. His build was different for one thing. Dean figured that that was due to a radical change in diet. His hair was not only styled differently, but it was also lighter in color than it had been, probably from more exposure to the sun and also extra nutrients from his better eating habits. Of course there was also the light scar running down the right side of his face and several others hidden by his clothes that he didn't have the first time around. Altogether, he still looked like Dean Winchester, just… different.

"Are you going to class?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his invisible friend. "You know, if anyone else was here, you would've just scared the crap outta them, Cas. And yeah, I'm going." The boy picked up his bag and left the restroom.

As he trudged down the hall, Dean pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He checked his classroom number for the millionth time. He would be in class 6-A which was in homeroom #106. From what he understood about the way this middle school worked, the class you were in had a different teacher for each subject, but the students remained the same, traveling from classroom to classroom together. Dean hoped he wasn't stuck with a room full of complete douche-bags.

He figured that he'd wasted enough time that he wouldn't be the first kid to enter the classroom. No need to get a rep as a geek or a teacher's pet. Dean strolled through the door and looked around. There was a nerdy-looking skinny boy sitting in the front wearing a pair of glasses two sizes too big for his face. A blonde girl smaller than himself despite her older age, had her hair pulled back in pig tails and was chewing gum while she was drawing on the desk in the back of the class. A red-haired boy had his head down on a desk and appeared to be fast asleep. Two girls dressed in short skirts and brightly colored sweaters sat next to each other and whispered back and forth, occasionally giggling madly. Dean sighed and took a seat near the back of the room, right next to the windows. He was gazing outside, pretending that he didn't know that the two gossiping chicks had changed topics to talk about him when he heard a backpack get tossed down onto the desk right next to his.

"Hey Dean, you gonna try and behave yourself this year?"

Dean turned his head to see Emily standing next to his desk. He hadn't seen her since fourth grade since she'd ended up in a different class the following year. He grinned up at her. "Depends on how well the teachers behave themselves."

"So, you're still a dummy, then." She smiled as she dropped into the seat across from him.

"Guilty as charged."

Emily pushed her long, dark hair behind her ears. "I figured I'd sit next to you in all our classes so I could copy your work. Nothing like befriending a genius to ace tests, right?"

"I'll make sure to mark all my answers wrong." Dean smirked.

"You know, I bet you would."

"Just for you."

"You're so sweet."

"Thanks." Dean replied.

Any further comments were cut off as the first bell rang and the rest of the students began to file into the classroom and claim their seats. The teacher stood up at the front of the room and wrote her name on the blackboard. Mrs. Franklin. Then after the final bell rang she took attendance. When a student's name was called, they were supposed to say 'here' and stand up so that the woman could see them. She went down her list, and when she came to 'Winchester, Dean', he stood up and said "Here."

"Freak!" Someone in the back called out.

There was quite a bit of laughter from the other students and Dean ignored it as he retook his seat.

"That's enough of that." Mrs. Franklin scolded. "Mr. Winchester is a very bright child and deserves our respect, not ridicule."

Dean rolled his eyes and wished that the teacher would stop 'helping' as some of his classmate snickered even more.

"Now, I'll be your homeroom teacher for the year as well as your math teacher. And that will be your first subject of the day. So, I'll start off by passing out your text books and then we'll go over what you'll be learning this year."

After math came science, then history. Then they had gym class, followed by language arts. When the bell rang they were all dismissed for lunch. Dean followed the mob of kids to the cafeteria. He wished that he could somehow duck out and go check on Sammy but he knew that he'd get in trouble and his parents would kill him for sure. Besides, his brother was probably enjoying himself and wouldn't want his big brother showing up and cramping his style.

"Is this seat taken?" Emily sat down next to him without waiting for his response.

"You know that I have no answers to copy at lunchtime, right?" Dean reminded her.

"No, but maybe you have a better lunch than me." She pointed out as she unpacked her paper bag.

Dean did the same. He had a roastbeef sandwich, potato chips, carrot sticks, Oreo cookies, and a yoo-hoo. Emily had a turkey sandwich, Doritos, chocolate chip cookies, and an apple juice. They quickly decided to swap the chips with each other and share the cookies. Dean also let her take some of his carrots but refused to switch drinks.

"So, you have nothing better to do than waste your lunchtime sitting with the freak of the school?" Dean asked around a mouthful of bread and meat.

"Ewww!" She punched his arm. "Don't talk with your mouth full, you dummy. But to answer your question; nope, nothing better to do. You're the most interesting thing in this whole entire place."

Dean took another bite before speaking again. "Awesome." He got punched again. "But that proves just how crappy this place really is."

Emily laughed, choking on her juice. "Yeah. I can't wait for high school. Actually, I can't wait for college. Get away from all these morons."

"Meet all new morons."

"It won't be like that. I mean, we're all just kids. College people are grown ups and they won't be so… you know… petty and mean." she sighed. "Like how people treat you. I bet if you were all grown up people would be nice to you."

Dean laughed. "Sure, if I were an adult, my life would be perfect."

"Wow, could you be more sarcastic?"

"Probably."

Emily shook her head. "Yeah, I bet you could. It's just… I hope that when we all grow up things are better than they are right now. That life doesn't depend on popularity or if you wear the right clothes or stuff like that."

Dean shrugged. "It always will to some people. But just be whoever the hell you wanna be and let the world do whatever it wants."

"Who gave you that advice?"

"Life." Dean shrugged.

"Well then, you've lived a lot for a nine year old."

"It's not quantity, it's quality."

"Okay Yoda." Emily teased.

"That totally makes you Luke Skywalker." Dean informed her.

"No way. First off, I'm a girl. Second, I don't whine like he did."

"Whatever you say, Skywalker."

"Shut up."

They were still laughing as the bell rang and they gathered up their trash to throw out. Dean walked with the others to their literature class and took a seat by the windows (as he had been doing all day). The final class of the day was art and it couldn't be over with soon enough. When he walked out of the classroom, he felt Cas's familiar presence vanish and he knew that the angel was following through with their plan. He couldn't just suddenly appear at Dean's side without causing a stir, so he would teleport himself outside the school grounds and then walk in to meet up with Dean. Then the two of them would go pick up Sammy. It left Dean unprotected for a few minutes, but it was unavoidable.

The boy slung his backpack over his shoulder and hurried out the front door. As he went down the front steps, someone bumped into him rather roughly. Dean stumbled and if not for his training and skills, he would've fallen down the rest of the cement stairs. The boy turned to see an older kid standing there with a grin on his face.

"Hey, you should watch where you're going baby-freak."

What was the boy's name? Frank? Fred? Something like that. "Sorry, didn't see the 'Jerk crossing' sign." Dean shot back.

"Are you calling me a jerk?"

Dean shrugged. "Take it as you like. Now, I gotta go. Have a nice day."

The older boy grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him up in the air. "I'm going to beat you until you cry for your mommy, baby-freak."

Dean placed his feet on the bully's thighs and his hands on the kid's arms. With a quick push and a twist, he was free and crouched on the ground. He contemplated sweeping the kid's feet out from under him, but a tumble down the steps could do some serious damage and the moron didn't do anything to deserve that yet. So instead, Dean darted out of his reach and gave him his most dangerous glare.

"The day _you_ can make _me_ cry is the day Hell freezes over. But try that again and you're gonna get yourself seriously embarrassed at best, dumbass. 'Cause I may be a freak, but I'm no baby. Got it?" With that, Dean continued down the steps, leaving Frank or Fred or whatever the hell his name was staring at him in confusion.

Once he passed through the gate, he saw Cas standing waiting for him. "Is the school year over yet?" Dean asked.

"I believe that it lasts for more than just one day."

"Damn."

In no time at all, they were standing in the yard outside the elementary school with the other children's parents as the little kids exited the building. Of course, the later grade students were leaving as well, and some of them were even older than Dean, but he wasn't focused on them. He only had eyes for one small kid. And there he was.

"Sammy!" Dean called.

"Dean!" The little boy came running towards him. "Dean! You were right! I had so much fun! And we're gonna learn a lot! But the teacher's gonna do the ABCs and you already taught me that, but she said that we're gonna learn other stuff too, and I can't wait, and there's some really nice kids, and I made a lot of friends, and it was really neat!"

"Whoa! Slow down and take a breath there, Sammy."

"Oh. Sorry, Dean."

"No problem, short stuff. But let's get home and you can tell me all about your awesome day, okay?"

"Okay."

"Great. Let's go then."

They all walked out of the schoolyard together and down the road. Once they'd turned the corner and were out of sight of anyone that could be watching, Cas placed his hands on both boys and transported them home.

Dean and Sammy both took a seat at the dining room table as their mom served them a snack.

"How was your day at school?" She asked.

Dean listened to Sammy ramble on as he ate his pie and started on his homework. Homework on the very first day of school. Yeah, this year was gonna suck. When his little brother was done, his mom placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"How was your day?"

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

She gently smacked the back of his head. "Seriously?"

"Not too bad. Nothing I can't I handle." And it was true. After all, he'd survived his original timeline childhood, fought demons and angels, been to Hell, averted the apocalypse, faced down the devil, spent time in purgatory, and been subjected to many different types of torture in his lifetime. Dean figured that he could make it through anything the universe decided to throw at him.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **You can never say that I don't give Dean a break... Hope you all enjoyed. Up next: lots of Sammy, the return of someone we all know, and the beginning of a dangerous situation. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	75. Taken

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Glad you all enjoyed that nice, cute little break I gave you all last time. Now, on to the tears and heartache! But first I want to thank VGiselleH, Serie11, if-llamas-could-fly, FireChildSlytherin5, celestialstarynight, angelofheaven001, Mizunou, numb3rs mystery, guest, Architectoftheuniverse, guest, Gustin azza, Lelouch's right hand, Drew, HeddersTheOwl, Hasmik Aharonyan, Nyx Ro, Court, OnyxDay, LilyBolt, liebedero, BranchSuper, ouran1996, LeeMarieJack, Jasper6509, AlElizabeth, guest, Sanshal, smileslot, RoseDragon666, Neumzie, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, murtaghxblaiseyum, DaisukethePenguin, Lady No Da 201, Mysterious Prophetess, Eliza Ghost, and savannaharaiza5 for their awesome reviews. You guys are the best._

**Chapter Seventy-Five: Taken **

"Bye Dean!" Sammy waved goodbye to his big brother like he had done everyday for the last month and walked over to sit in his chair at the table. He placed his dinosaur backpack on the floor next to him and folded his hands in front of himself. He was excited for the day to start. Sammy loved school. He knew some of the stuff that they were learning already, thanks to Dean, but the new stuff was interesting and he was hoping that as the year went on they'd learn even more new stuff. Besides after he'd taken some tests, Mrs. Bradley said that since Dean had taught him to read, he could practice that during class and do big kid worksheets while the other kids learned their ABCs. And the projects that the whole class made from construction paper and paper plates and stuff like that were always so much fun. And it was now October and soon they'd be making things for Halloween. That would be neat.

"Hi, Sammy!"

Sammy turned and smiled at his best friend, Tommy. "Hi, Tommy."

"I got a new bike for my birthday yesterday!" Tommy announced.

"That's great." Sammy told him. "Dean is teaching me to ride a bike. I can ride, but I still need the train wheels."

"Wow! You can ride?"

"Yeah." Sammy said proudly.

"I want to learn too." Marie cut in as she sat on Sammy's other side. "But my daddy said no bikes until I'm older."

"Girls can't ride bikes." Eddy said as he sat across from them.

"I will." Marie insisted.

"Nah uh."

"Yeah."

"Stop it you two." Sammy hissed. "You're gonna get put in the corners again." They were always getting in trouble for arguing. Dean would call them dumbasses. But Sammy would never say that out loud.

"Good morning, class!" Mrs. Bradley greeted.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bradley." They responded.

Shortly afterwards, the loudspeaker came on and they all stood for the pledge of allegiance. Sammy proudly recited all the words correctly, since Dean had taught it to him before he'd started school. Then he sat down to listened to the announcements. When it was over, Mrs. Bradley started to go over what she'd be teaching for the day when there was a knock at the door. Sammy turned his head to see who was there.

His teacher opened the door and the woman that always sat at the desk in front of the principal's office was standing there. She smiled but she didn't look very happy. The two women started talking in hushed tones. Sammy leaned closer and struggled to hear what was being said. Dean always told him that he was too curious for his own good. Then he heard his own name being mentioned, along with words like 'accident', 'brother', and 'hospital'. Sammy was up and out of his seat before he realized what he was doing.

"What going on?" He asked.

Mrs. Bradley turned around and looked down at him. "Please go get your backpack, Sammy. You're going to be going home. Someone is here to pick you up."

"What? Why? What happened?"

The other woman answered. "There was an accident, sweetie. Your brother was hurt and is in the hospital. Your parents are with him now."

Sammy felt tears rush to his eyes. Dean was hurt. But Dean never went to the hospital. Never. Daddy always fixed Dean. So if Dean was hurt bad enough to need doctors, it must be very bad. Maybe Dean was dying.

"Where's Cas? Is he taking me to Dean?"

"Your uncle? No, he must be at the hospital with your brother too. But a friend of your parents is here to pick you up. I'll take you to him."

Sammy nodded. It must be Uncle Bobby. Uncle Bobby would take him to Dean. But why was Dean hurt? Dean should be in school. Not in a hospital.

As the boy grabbed his pack he heard his teacher asking the other lady who the family friend was. The lady said that the man had a signed note explaining the situation and giving him permission to retrieve Sammy from school. Sammy ran to the door. He had to go see Dean. Now.

Sammy was crying as he followed the woman down the hallway. When he reached the front of the building he looked over to the office to see if Uncle Bobby was sitting in the chairs waiting for him. But there was no sign of him. Instead, there was a dark-skinned man standing there smiling at him. Sammy stopped walking.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm Gordon, a friend of your dad's. I'm here to pick you up."

Sammy didn't know what to do. He wanted to go see Dean. If Dean was hurt and maybe dying, Sammy had to be there with him. But he didn't know this man and for some reason he didn't like him. Sammy felt like crying even more.

"I want to go with Cas."

"Well, Cas ain't here right now, so come on, Sammy."

"No, thank you. Cas is very quick and I'm sure if you called the hospital, he could come and pick me up and bring me to Dean."

Gordon walked over and knelt down in front of Sammy, placing his hands gently on the boy's upper arms. He looked up at the woman behind the desk. "I need a moment to calm the boy. John told me how close his kids are. If he's still this broken up after I talk with him, maybe I can see if I can get Cas down here."

The woman smiled, nodded, and stepped back to let them talk.

Sammy gave a relieved smile. "Thank you mister, I just would rather have…"

He was cut off when Gordon tightened his grip on Sammy's arms. "Shut up, you little brat." He growled out in a low whisper that Sammy knew the lady at the other side of the room wouldn't be able to hear. "Now listen to me. You are going to leave the school with me and you are not going to put up any kind of a fuss. If you don't do this, I will make sure that your big brother is going to die in the most terrible, painful way possible. Do you understand me?"

Sammy felt the tears begin to pour down his face even harder but he forced himself to nod.

"Okay." The dark-skinned man said loudly, in a cheerful tone. "I think Sammy is ready to go."

The woman walked back over as Gordon stood up. "Are you okay to go now, Sammy?"

"Yes, ma'am. I just want to go see Dean." Sammy said. He didn't want to leave with the scary man, but he didn't want the man to go to the hospital and hurt Dean.

Sammy followed the man out of the school and over to an old car parked out front. It was as big as his daddy's car but not in as good shape. Gordon opened the front passenger door and motioned for Sammy to get in. The boy climbed in and put on the seatbelt. Once Gordon was in, the man started the car and drove off, speeding down the road much faster than he should've been.

After a few minutes, Sammy broke the silence. "What… what happened to Dean?"

"Nothing. Yet."

"But… but you said he was in the hospital."

"I lied to get you out of the school. But make no mistake, if you hadn't come with me, he'd be in a condition that no hospital could fix."

Sammy felt fresh tears run down his face. "Why do you want me?"

"Short answer; I don't. I want your brother. But he's not going to do what I want unless I have you."

"I don't understand. Why do you want Dean?"

"First off, your brother and I got unfinished business. I owe the little brat for throwing a knife into my shoulder. But before that, he's gonna help me out with a little vampire problem."

Sammy looked over at the man. "Dean only throws knives in his room. At the target. Mommy says never to throw stuff at people. And uh… what's your vampire problem? Is it something for Halloween?"

Gordon let out a snort. "Oh this is priceless. When your brother was your age he was decapitating vamps and you don't even know the truth of what's out there. What the hell is wrong with your parents?"

Sammy had no clue what 'decapitating' was, but he didn't like the way that this man talked about his family. "Nothing is wrong with my family, douche-bag!" He yelled, using one of Dean's favorite insults. "They aren't the ones that are kidnapping people." Then he realized that he'd yelled at the scary man and immediately shrank back into the seat, terrified that Gordon would harm him.

"Don't worry, brat. I'm not going to hurt you. Not if your asshole of a brother cooperates. And you might actually learn something today."

"Y… you can't talk about Dean like that! And what do you mean by learn something?"

"Yeah, like the fact that vampires aren't just some made up Halloween thing. They are real."

"You're crazy."

Gordon laughed. "No, you're just stupid."

"Am not."

"Uh huh? What does your brother do on the weekends? Or when he doesn't go to school? Or at night sometimes when you have to have a sitter watch you?"

Sammy shrugged, shifting in the seat to get as far away from the crazy, scary man as he could. "He helps Daddy and Mommy."

"With what?"

"Don't know."

Gordon laughed. "That's because for some reason you're being left out of the loop, while big bro was getting his ass served up to monsters when he was your age. Your daddy and mommy must love you a helluva lot more than Dean-o."

"That's not true." Sammy protested.

"Sure." The man stretched the word out, and his tone was very sarcastic. "That's why they drag him out into a dangerous line of work and keep you safe."

"They don't."

"How many times has big bro come back from helping your parents and been covered in blood?"

Sammy thought back to all the times Dean had come home with cuts, bruises, burns, and even the occasional bite marks. "He… he says he doesn't watch what he's doing. That it's his fault that he gets hurt."

"Wow. That makes him sound like an abused child." Gordon laughed.

"You don't know anything." Sammy yelled. He was scared of this guy, but he was also getting angry at him. Gordon was saying mean stuff about Dean and his daddy and mommy.

"I know how he gets hurt so much. Do you?"

"What? You think it's vampires?" Sammy asked sarcastically.

"Not always. But yeah, sometimes."

"You're crazy."

"No, I just know what's out there. And so do your parents and Dean. See, we hunt these things so that they can't hurt people like you."

"You don't help anyone! You kidnapped me! You're a bad guy." Sammy yelled at him.

"I told you; I only need you to get your stubborn-ass brother to do what I need him to do. He's one very dangerous weapon, wrapped up in a small package, and that's just what I need."

"Dean's gonna be dangerous when he gets his hands on you." Sammy told Gordon. "He told me that if anyone ever hurt me he'd take care of them, and that's what he's gonna do to you."

Gordon chuckled. "Not if he ever wants to see you alive again."

Sammy felt tears start to come to his eyes again. "You… you're going to kill me?"

"That's entirely up to Dean." the dark-skinned man shrugged. "He plays ball and does his job, you get to go home. He doesn't, well… I hope you kissed your mommy and daddy goodbye this morning and told them that you loved them, because that'll be the last time you all see each other."

Sammy pulled his knees up to his chest and started to sob. He was terrified beyond belief. "Please, just let me go."

"Can't. Not until after the job's done."

Sammy looked over at the man. "And… and what about Dean. He gets to go home when the job's done too, right?"

"We'll see." Gordon said with an evil looking smile on his face.

A while later, the car pulled off the main road and came to a stop.

"Why are we stopping?"

"I gotta pick your brother up from school soon and I sure as hell ain't gonna do it with you sitting in the car next to me. Luckily, I have things planned out and you have different travel plans." Sammy was trying to figure out what the man was talking about when he got out of the car and came around to open the passenger side door. "Get out."

Sammy did as he was told, praying that both he and Dean would live through whatever was to come next.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Bet no one saw that coming! But uh... please don't kill me... Up next: Gordon's meeting with Dean. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	76. Deal

_**Author's Note: ** Hey Everyone! So, no one seems ready to join the Gordon Walker fan club... But the good news is that I survived all the attempts on my life and am back with another chapter! I want to thank MeemeBear, angelofheaven001, guest, VGiselleH, Mizunou, liebedero, Nyx Ro, RoseDragon666, Sanshal, celestialstarynight, Drew, Hasmik Aharonyan, Gustin azza, if-llamas-could-fly, DaisukethePenguin, crimsoneleven, LilyBolt, LeeMarieJack, Jasper6509, Lelouch's right hand, smokepelt, XdarkkissX, Neumzie, Araina Richardson, FireChildSlytherin5, guest, BranchSuper, Architectoftheuniverse, roy23, EllyKayWasHere, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, OnyxDay, AlElizabeth, deansass, Mysterious Prophetess, Serie11, shadow visor, Pizzapig, angelwings822, and teddybear17 for their awesome reviews. You guys are beyond wonderful. And now, let's see how Dean deals with Gordon..._

**Chapter Seventy-Six: Deal**

"So Dean, are you doing anything for Halloween? I know it's still a few weeks away, but just figured I'd ask." Emily questioned as they walked down the hall side by side, heading for the main doors after the final bell had rung, dismissing the students for the day.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe go out and kill some demons or something."

Emily giggled. "Cool. I think I'll hold some trials and then burn some witches."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, you look more like the kind of chick that should be getting rid of ghosts."

"I'm not joining the Ghostbusters." Emily protested. "They are so sexist. The only girl that works with them has to be their secretary."

"That's lame. Chicks could so kill monsters." Dean commented. He grinned at the fact that Emily had no clue how much truth was behind their banter.

"Exactly. But I'm not even convinced that Janine is a girl. I think it's just a guy in drag."

"Oh dude, that's just sick. She hits on that dorky guy all the time."

"So, maybe he's gay."

"Okay, this conversation is over." Dean put his hands up to his ears and started humming Metallica loudly.

Emily laughed and pulled his hands away. "Seriously though, what're you doing for Halloween?"

"Probably taking Sammy trick 'r treating."

"That's cool. I wish I could still go. But my parents said I was too old. I think they just didn't want to be bothered buying a costume and taking me out anymore."

Dean thought for a moment. "You wanna come with Sammy and me? You can just tell your parents that you're going to a friend's house to watch some lame-ass horror flicks and then we can go out and get some candy. And so that it won't be a complete lie, we can watch some crappy movie when we get back and Sammy goes to sleep."

"Really? That would be awesome! But I don't have a costume."

"I'm sure you can find some stuff lying around your bedroom to toss together."

Emily bit her lip while considering his offer. "Your parents won't mind?"

"Nah, they're cool with practically everything I do. Well, within reason."

"Great! I'll ask when I get home tonight! Thanks, Dean."

"No problem. But it means that you'll have to walk the entire neighborhood with me and listen to Sammy chatter on about everything under the sun."

"He sounds adorable." They had walked out the door and down the front steps and Emily waved to him as she turned to go and get on the bus. "Bye Dean. See you tomorrow."

"See ya!" He called back.

Dean smiled as he walked towards the gate to where Cas was standing. He didn't know why he'd invited Emily to go with him and Sam. Maybe because she was the first non-family/non-hunter person to be nice to him. Maybe because he thought it was dumb that she had to miss out on all the fun just because her parents decided that eleven was too old to go out trick 'r treating. Maybe because there were so many times during his first childhood when he and Sammy had to miss out on some holiday or another that he didn't want it to happen to someone else. Whatever the reason, he was now committed to it. But he'd never hung out with anyone from school outside of school in either timeline, so it would be an interesting experience.

"Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean."

"So, let's grab Sammy and get home. I got a really lame science project I gotta get done before the weekend since we got that thing we gotta take care of with Dad and Mom on Saturday."

They were on their way to the elementary school, when Dean heard the car approaching slowly from behind. He tensed up and reached into his pocket for the knife that he always kept there. Then the young hunter glanced behind himself and saw the large car pulling up to the curb. And it was going to come to a stop right next to him. Dean turned to face it and then saw who the driver was.

When the window was rolled down, Dean curled his lip up into a snarl. "What the hell do you want?"

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend, Dean?"

"You and me have never been friends, Gordon, so cut the crap." He felt Cas's reassuring presence right behind him and was pretty sure that the angel was glaring daggers at the dark-skinned hunter as well.

"Fine then, down to business. Get in the car, Dean. But leave your friend here, please."

"Not gonna happen, moron. My mom always told me not to get into cars with assholes."

"Too bad no one told your brother the same thing."

Dean felt his blood run cold. "You're lying. Sammy wouldn't go anywhere with you."

In response, Gordon reached down next to himself and picked something up. He tossed the item out of the window. Dean picked it up and felt his whole body tremble with fear and rage. It was Sammy's backpack.

"Now, you can either get in the car with me now, or you can go in the school and ask around about him. Set off some alarms. And when you get out I won't be here. Then tomorrow, I'll find a way to pick you up and this time I'll have one of your little brother's fingers as proof. Which sounds like the best option to you?"

"Where is he? What do you want?" Dean asked, edging towards the car.

"He's with one of my associates. And all I want is your help. Once the job is done, little Sammy gets to go home unharmed. But, if you don't help, or if I see any of your family or friends lurking about, my partner kills your brother. So, we have a deal?"

It wasn't even a question. "Deal. Just let me talk to Cas. Convince him to back off and keep my parents away."

"Two minutes and I drive off."

Dean spun around and dragged Cas away a couple of feet. "Can you sense Sammy?" He kept his voice low.

"No. Wherever he is, he is well hidden."

"How? Gordon doesn't even know what you are."

Cas shook his head. "I am unsure. But some hunters have many wards up that block all supernatural entities, angels included. It is possible that Gordon's partner is just paranoid."

"Damn. Alright then. I'm going to go along with his deal then."

"Dean…"

"And so are you. And I mean it, Cas. No popping up in the middle of the hunt. Not even invisible, just in case he hears or senses anything out of place. He's one paranoid bastard. I saw a huge-ass cell phone in his car. He's obviously in contact with his partner and I can't do anything to risk Sammy's life. Trust me, Gordon is nuts enough to hurt or even kill Sammy if I step out of line. Please, just go home and get my parents to stay put. Don't make any move until I call you, okay? Promise."

"I promise, Dean."

Dean nodded, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. He really didn't want to go anywhere with that psycho, but he had no choice. He had to keep Sammy safe.

The boy turned, walked around the car, and climbed into the passenger side, leaving both his and Sammy's backpacks with Cas. Once in, he sat as far away from Gordon as the door would allow.

"I swear, if you hurt Sammy at all, I will end you."

Gordon laughed. "You're not really in a position to be issuing threats, Dean."

"You keep telling yourself that, Gordon. But when you're roasting in Hell before the day is out, don't go crying to your mommy that you weren't warned."

"You're a real smart-ass."

"Better than being a dumb-ass like you." There was silence in the car for a long time before Dean finally broke it. "So, what's the job, and why do you need _my_ help?"

"Vamp nest."

Dean snorted. "What else? Anyone ever tell you that you have obsession issues?"

"As I was saying," Gordon's voice sounded pissed. Good. "It's a vamp nest. Nine of them total, but they got their place locked up real tight. No way in. And believe me, I've been looking. So my partner and me, we came up with this plan that we'd wait for them to go out at night and ambush the first ones out the door."

"You call that a plan? I'm surprised you're still breathing."

"Shut it! When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it." The older hunter snapped. "Anyway, my buddy was at the door when it opened, but those bastards knew. They got the drop on him."

"He dead?"

"No, but almost. Which is why you're on this mission now instead of him. But trust me, he's well enough to finish off Sammy if you don't play ball."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. I already agreed to your deal, Gordon. So stop pissing me off by threatening my brother." Dean growled out. "And you haven't answered my question. Why me? I'm sure you could've gotten someone else to work with you. Sure, you're an ass, but you know how to play up to other hunters. Or at the very least, bribe them. Why go through all this trouble?"

"First off, I found a way in. But it's a tight fit and no full grown adult would ever make it through. And second, these vamps have a rep for being rather vicious and I'm thinking that I might need a particularly nasty weapon to take them out. And somehow, when I think of weapons, an image of you comes to mind. That little five year old brat who had perfect aim and could decapitate a vamp like it was nothing. I look at you now and I see that the years have just made you more dangerous, haven't they?"

Dean let out a humorless laugh. "You consider me this dangerous, yet you dare to touch my baby brother?"

"'Cause I know that you won't dare harm me so long as I got him."

"True. But you won't have him forever."

"And you may be a scary, badass hunter, but you're still just a kid. You won't take a human life."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "I don't think you qualify as human."

"Tough talk."

"Not just talk."

"We'll see."

"Yeah. We will."

Dean turned his head to stare out the window. He watched as the scenery passed by and thought about how exactly he was going to deal with Gordon Walker when all of this was over with. As soon as the job was over and he knew that Sammy was safe, the man had to be taken care of. He'd kidnapped Dean's little brother. That alone was an unforgivable act, but the young hunter knew from the original timeline just how dangerous and unrelenting the unstable man could be. And now that he knew that he could get to Dean and use him through Sammy, he'd never stop. Sammy would always be in danger from this bastard and that was unacceptable. Besides, Gordon was wrong. Dean wasn't just a kid, and he could take a life if he had to.

But before he could even begin to worry about preventing a 'next time', Dean had to worry about this time. Which meant he'd have to work with the nut job to take out a very dangerous nest of vamps. He sure hoped that this would go better than the first attempt went for Gordon's partner. Dean wouldn't be much help to Sammy if he was dead or dying.

…

…_supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatura l…supernatural…_

…

"I'm going to strangle Gordon Walker with my bare hands!" John Winchester yelled. He was storming around the living room with his hands fisted tightly, ready to punch something, but unfortunately the person he wanted to target was in a car somewhere with his eldest son.

John had gotten a call at work from his wife telling him to come home, that it was an emergency. He'd rushed out and driven back to the house like a madman, breaking every speed limit and driving law there was. When he'd arrived home, Cas had been there, but his boys had not. Then he'd listen as the angel had explained what had happened with Gordon. John felt his temper rise and now all he could do was pace the room and spit out curses and threats.

"I do not believe that he will allow you to get that close to him." Cas informed him.

"Then get us that close!" John screamed at the angel.

"I cannot!"

"I know what you promised Dean." Mary cut in. "But maybe if we all ambush Walker at the same time we can get him to take us to Sam."

"No." Cas shook his head. "Dean was certain that Gordon would have Sam killed before he'd give up. Besides, I can no longer sense Dean. Not since they drove off. I believe that Gordon's car is protected in the same way that his partner's hideout is."

"So we've lost both of them?" John's legs felt unnaturally weak. "No. No, we have to do something."

"Gordon hunts vampires, right? Why don't we call Bobby? See if anyone knows what hunt Gordon was on?"

"Because if word somehow gets back to Gordon's partner that we are looking into it, we will be putting Sam's life in danger." Cas pointed out.

"Do we know who Gordon's partner is?" John asked. "Maybe we can just go pay him a visit."

"No." Cas answered.

"So you're saying there's nothing we can do?" The idea of sitting in the house and just waiting did not sit right with the hunter.

"Right now it seems to be all up to Dean."

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Well, it looks like Gordon was well prepared... you need to be if you're going to threaten Dean's little brother. But can anything save him from Dean's wrath? And how well is their vamp hunt going to go? Is Sammy going to be safe? I'll be back on Monday with some of these answers (you know, if you guys don't kill me first). So, please take a moment and leave a review. Thanks._


	77. Waking and Breaking In

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Wow... Gordon got more death threats than I did! I want to thank VGiselleH, EllyKayWasHere, Serie11, guest, AlElizabeth, Gustin azza, Cheetah Reader, Drew, Mysterious Prophetess, RoseDragon666, DaisukethePenguin, Jasper6509, angelofheaven001, spn-is-my-addiction, LilyBolt, liebedero, OnyxDay, Sanshal, XdarkkissX, Nyx Ro, BranchSuper, celestialstarynight, Neumzie, guest, R-Gomeni, murtaghxblaiseyum, Amara Rose 4 Ever, Lady No Da 201, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, if-llamas-could-fly, ouran1996, Eliza Ghost, MeemeBear, and Nocturnal Rose for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome. _

**Chapter Seventy-Seven: Waking and Breaking in **

The sun had been up for a couple of hours when Gordon closed the trunk of his car again and headed back for the driver's seat. Everything was all set and they would be at their destination about an hour before it got dark. Sleeping in the back seat had not been comfortable but stopping at a motel wasn't really an option and besides, he'd only slept for four hours anyways. A quick glance at the passenger side front seat showed that Dean was still out and was turning and muttering in his sleep. The drugs Gordon had slipped into the boy's food the previous evening had done the trick. Tasteless and odorless, they hadn't been detected when he'd finally forced the brat to eat the takeout he'd gotten. It hadn't been easy getting the drugs into the food without being caught, but it was worth it. Gordon had things to take care of that he didn't need Dean awake for. Besides, Sammy as hostage or not, he really didn't trust to go to sleep with the young hunter still awake.

He slid into the driver's seat and started up the car. It almost stalled but luckily the engine decided to cooperate and moments later he was pulling out of the rest stop and back out onto the highway. Gordon kept his speed just over the limit; fast enough to get where he wanted quick enough but not so much that he'd draw any unwanted police attention. Dean might lie and go along with him to keep Sammy safe, but if the cops searched his car, well, he'd be screwed. And Gordon was not looking to do jail time.

"No! Stop!" Dean started to thrash about in the seat and the older hunter was certain that the seatbelt was the only thing holding him in place.

"Wake up." Gordon reached over and shoved the boy. Nothing happened. He rolled his eyes. The little brat was stuck in a nightmare. Not really his problem, but if he got louder or more violent it would get to be too distracting for him to drive with. "Hey, I said wake up!"

Still, the kid was fast asleep. Maybe he'd overdone it with the sleeping pills.

"No, leave me alone! Oh God!" Then Dean let out a loud and pain filled scream that filled the whole car and made Gordon jump. The car swerved and almost crashed into a truck in the next lane over. The horn blast let out by the pissed off driver couldn't even cover up the racket that the kid was making. He was twisting and thrashing in his seat while screaming.

Gordon pulled off to the side of the road and turned off the car. He leaned over, grabbed the boy's shoulders and shook him violently. At first, it looked like nothing would happen and the hunter was beginning to wonder if he had really screwed up by drugging the kid. Not like he didn't want to take revenge on the brat for what he'd done at their last encounter, but he still needed Dean in one piece for this hunt. And a comatose hunter was no good to him at all.

But then Dean's eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly. His fist flew up and he punched Gordon in the face with a strength that the man wouldn't have believed a nine year old could possess. Then the hunter suddenly found himself with small fingers wrapping around his throat. He looked into Dean's face, which was just inches from his own, and was actually frightened by what he saw. The look in the boy's eyes was barely human. Even when Dean had been threatening his life after discovering what Gordon had done to his brother, he hadn't looked like this.

Gordon managed to get his hands up and between them and pushed the boy back with all the force he could manage. Dean flew back and his head collided with the window. He let out a cry of pain as the glass cracked and he slumped down in his seat with his eyes closed. There was a moment of complete stillness and then Dean once more opened his eyes. Gordon tensed and went for his weapon, but the boy's eyes looked dazed and confused, not dangerous as he glanced around the car.

"What… where…"

"In my car, where you just tried to strangle me, you piece of crap brat!" Gordon snarled.

Dean's eyes snapped into focus on his face and his confusion seemed to clear up as anger rushed into his expression. "Well, too bad I didn't succeed."

"What the hell was that?"

"Exactly what you get for poisoning my food, you asshole. And yeah, I figured it out as I was drifting off against my will last night, douche-bag."

Gordon reached over and smacked the boy's mouth hard. "How about you keep your trap shut, kid."

Dean licked the blood off his split lip and glared at Gordon. "You asked me a question. I answered."

The hunter started up the car and pulled back out onto the road. "Great. Stuck with a kid with PTSD for a hunting partner."

"What?" Dean looked over at him in shock.

"Your little episode? Yeah, I know what post traumatic stress disorder looks like. Worked with enough wacked out hunters to recognize it."

Dean shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Yeah well, if it's too much trouble, you can always turn this rust bucket around, go pick up Sammy, and drop us both off at home."

"I think I'll manage just fine so long as you keep your head."

"Just don't drug me again, or I make no promises." Dean shot back.

After a few minutes, Gordon looked over at him. "What the hell were you dreaming about?"

"Your ugly face."

"Cute."

"Thanks, I know I am, but I don't swing that way." Dean smirked. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to make the rest of this trip in silence. You may have coerced me into helping you on this hunt, but I sure as hell ain't gonna have a heart to heart with you on the way there."

"I just want to make sure that your head's in the game when it come time to get the job done. I don't need you screwing this up over some bad dreams." Gordon countered.

"Don't worry. I know how to handle myself."

"Good. This is far too important and I don't want to have to worry about you screwing up because you can't handle this life."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Trust me, you have no idea what I can handle."

And that was all that was said about it for the rest of the trip.

…

_...supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernat ural…supernatural…_

…

Dean looked at the house from where he was hidden and took a deep breath. This was it. His job was to enter through the attic, make his way down to the front door to unlock it, and let Gordon in. He'd have to kill any vampires that stood in his way. Since it was just before sundown, there was a chance that they could all be asleep or that they could all be up and ready to go out for a night of fun. If it was option number two, then Dean was in for one hell of a battle.

Gordon had told him when they'd stopped for food (with Dean watching very closely to make certain that the food wasn't tampered with this time) that the leader of this particular nest was easily recognizable as he was tall and built like a body builder. He also was known to not go out with the nest very often. Dean hoped not to run into him until he got Gordon inside the house. He might not like the man very much, but he knew that the full grown man would be decent backup against such an opposing enemy. And Dean himself wanted to live long enough to see his little brother again. And to make Gordon pay for what he'd done.

The small hunter crept close to the house and over to one of the large trees near the side. He made certain that his machete was strapped tightly to his back and then he started to climb. The limbs weren't close together and Dean really missed his six foot frame that he'd had when he was an adult. Of course, he doubted that some of the branches could've supported the weight of a full grown man. As he climbed, Dean glanced over at the house. Gordon hadn't been kidding. That place had some serious security measures. Thick bars blocked all the windows, much too close together for even a child to slip through. There was only one door into the place, unless you counted the hatch that led down into the cellar but that was chained shut. The only place where someone could possibly slip in was a grate up in the attic, but it would be a tough fit even for Dean. The boy crouched down and leapt to grab onto the next branch up and swung his legs to pull himself onto it. He was thankful when it didn't break and drop him onto the hard ground below. Dean wondered briefly what would become of Sammy if he died on this hunt. Would Gordon return the boy to his parents? Or would he kill him out of spite for Dean not completing the job? Knowing the jackass of a hunter, it was best not to find out.

When Dean reached the higher (and less stable) branches, he went out on the limbs as far as he dared and reached out a hand towards the house. The branch that he was on started to crack. The small hunter prayed that the drain pipe was attached securely as he jumped and grabbed a hold of it. Dean let out a sigh of relief as it didn't budge an inch, nor did it make any noise.

With a groan from the strain that his arms were protesting against, Dean maneuvered his body so that he was hanging near the grate that he'd have to crawl into. Then he reached into his pocket with one hand and pulled out a screwdriver. The boy proceeded to remove the screws from all four corners that held the metal in place, occasionally switching arms or taking a break and using both to hold himself up. When the grate finally came off, Dean grabbed it and carefully placed it inside the attic, wincing as it made a very slight noise. Then he swung himself into the small opening gently. His feet hit the floor softly, making no sound at all. Then Dean slowly eased the rest of his body through. But when he tried to get his shoulders through, he actually got stuck. The boy almost laughed. For five years now he'd felt far too small and now he was actually a bit too big for a job. He wiggled and tugged and finally got one arm through, gasping as he almost dislocated his shoulder in the process.

Once he was completely in the attic, Dean took the opportunity to look around. There were several sturdy beds all lined up around the large room. And on each bed was a young man or woman tied to the metal headboard. Dean counted nine people total. One victim for each vampire. It was just sick.

Dean cautiously approached the first bed and the young woman turned her head, obviously sensing his movements, and her eyes opened wide. The young hunter put his finger up to his lips in a silencing gesture and shook his head. The terrified woman nodded. The boy got a good look at her when he reached the bedside. She was probably around twenty years old and had bite marks on her neck and down both arms. She was dressed in nothing but her underwear and her hair was clearly unwashed. The woman was pale and weak and Dean figured that she'd been here for a while.

"My name's Dean. I'm not one of them. I'm here to help. Are you… they didn't make you drink their blood, did they?" He whispered.

She shook her head. "No." Her voice was barely audible.

"I promise not to hurt you, but can I just check in your mouth. Just to be sure."

"Show… show me your teeth first." She whispered.

Dean opened his mouth and ran his tongue over his teeth. "No fangs. I told you; I'm not one of them. Now, can I check you?" She nodded and opened her mouth. Dean carefully pulled her top lip up and looked her gums over. Satisfied, he let go. "Okay. I just had to be sure. Look, I can't get you all free right now. That would attract far too much attention and we'd all get killed. But once I'm done here, I'll take care of you. You'll be out of here before the night is over, I promise."

The young woman looked at him like he was crazy. "Just get out and call the police now. They'll kill you."

Dean shook his head. "You know what these things are. The cops don't know how to deal with them. I have to handle this."

"But you're just a kid."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? Now just stay quiet. This'll all be over soon."

Dean sent her his most reassuring smile and crept quietly across the room. He saw stairs leading down to a door and let out a sigh of relief. If there had only been a trapdoor down, there wouldn't have been a quiet way for him to have exited the attic.

He was about halfway there when the door started to open. Dean froze and looked around trying to decide what his next move should be. Whatever it was going to be, he had to figure it out quick, because in just moments, the vampire that was behind the door would be coming up into the attic with him.

_**Author's Note Part Two:** Uh oh... So, Dean has to survive the vamps and then take care of Gordon once Sammy is safe... if he lives that long... Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	78. Heads Will Roll

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Time to resolve that cliffhanger and see what's gonna happen to Dean. But first I want to thank angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, Drew, crimsoneleven, AmortentiaStyles, Nyx Ro, DaisukethePenguin, liebedero, Invader Kiwi, Sanshal, Mizunou, LilyBolt, LeeMarieJack, Hasmik Aharonyan, OnyxDay, murtaghxblaiseyum, Gustin azza, Serie11, guest, BranchSuper, AlElizabeth, Jasper6509, Heartless BytchakaHelenBach1, Meeme Bear, girlinpink44, RoseDragon666, XdarkkissX, guest, Amara Rose 4 Ever, ouran1996, if-llamas-could-fly, KatieJoy78, savannaharaiza, Eliza Ghost, roy23, and Heart of Diamond for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! _

**Chapter Seventy-Eight: Heads Will Roll **

Dean made it under one of the beds just in time as the vampire entered the attic, closing the door behind him. The boy hoped that the monster didn't smell him or anything, but with all the scared and bleeding victims tied down in the room, he doubted that he'd be detected. And it wasn't like the vamp was expecting company or anything. A kid hiding under one of these beds was probably the last thing on the freak's mind. Even so, the young hunter lay very still and held his breath as a pair of feet passed his hiding place and stopped at the bed right next to the one he was under.

"Hey there, cupcake. How you doing tonight? Now, I'm sorry to say that we don't have any time for some real fun, just a little foreplay and my snack. But I'll make it up to you when I get back." The male voice chuckled.

Dean felt sick as the woman on the bed started to cry. It wasn't the same girl he'd spoken to earlier, and he had no clue what kind of condition she was in. In the end it didn't matter. There was just no way that he could lay there in hiding while a vamp perv took advantage of, and then fed from, an innocent woman.

The young hunter moved quietly, shifting closer to edge of the bed. He heard sound of old springs groaning as the vampire climb onto the mattress. Dean removed his machete from where he'd kept it strapped to his back and then slid himself completely out from his hiding place. The boy remained on all fours and glanced up onto the other bed. The vampire was straddling a dark haired woman and his hands were roaming all over her almost naked body. Dean clenched his jaw tightly and stood up behind the monster, where he knew that he wouldn't be seen. Hell, with how into his despicable actions the vamp was, the hunter could set off fireworks in the attic and it would go unnoticed.

Dean could feel the eyes of the other victims on him, but he knew that they wouldn't do anything to tip the vamp off. He crept quietly over to the bed and realized that there was no way he'd be able to reach to cut off the vampire's head while standing down on the floor. Not with his child sized body. So, adjusting his grip on his weapon, the small hunter bent his knees and leapt up onto the bed.

"Hey dumbass, when a lady says no, she means no." He kept his voice down so as not to alert any of the others downstairs.

"What the…" The vamp sat up, startled. He stared at Dean in shock.

Dean launched himself forwards and pushed the vampire down onto his back. The boy straddled the creature's chest and brought his blade down as hard as he could on the vamp's neck. The edge of it had been sharpened to such extent that a single blow took the monster's head off. Dean swung one of his legs over the body and climbed off. Then he rolled the corpse off of the young woman, careful not to let it fall onto the floor so that the noise wouldn't alert anyone.

Dean took a deep breath. One down, eight to go. This one had been easy, as Dean had taken him by surprise, but he couldn't count on the rest going down the same.

He made his way carefully across the attic, making sure to stay as silent as possible. As he reached the stairs, Dean turned and looked back at the people tied to the beds. They were staring at him with a mix of shock, awe, hope, and fear.

"Don't worry. This'll be over soon and you can all go home."

Dean took the stairs quietly and turned the doorknob slowly. The door made a slight creaking noise and the boy winced. He slipped through the slight crack that he'd opened it and looked around. He found himself in a long, deserted hall. Dean thought about the layout of the house and where he was in relation to the front door and then turned left. He walked a few steps before a door to his right suddenly opened. A woman wearing too much makeup, knee-high boots, and not much else stepped out. Dean reacted immediately and kicked her in the kneecap. She let out a small cry and fell to her knees. The slutty vampire chick hissed at him, showing off her row of sharp teeth and Dean responded by decapitating her. Luckily, her neck was exceedingly thin and easy for his sharp weapon to cut through. The semi-loud thud of her body and head hitting the floor couldn't be helped and the boy hoped that it didn't bring the others rushing to his position.

When nothing happened right away, Dean continued on his way. Not too much further down the hall, he reached a staircase and followed it down. At the bottom, he started towards where he knew the front door would be, but then he heard two sets of footsteps heading his way. Dean knew that taking out two at a time would be a challenge and that if they called in reinforcements he'd be screwed for sure. The young hunter ducked through the first door he saw, praying that there wasn't a vampire hanging out in the room behind it. Apparently, his prayer was not to be answered.

Dean turned around after carefully closing the door and saw a figure sitting in a chair staring at him. The man snarled at him and the boy caught a flash of a full mouth of sharp fangs. He tensed and lifted his machete to attack but hesitated as the vamp didn't make a move. Then Dean realized why. He was tied to a chair.

Dean laughed. "What the hell happened to you? Piss off the other vamps? Or is this some kinda kinky game that I really don't wanna know about?"

The vampire looked him over. "A smart mouthed young brat wielding a machete. You must be Dean Winchester."

Dean froze. "What? How do you know who I am?"

"A mutual friend." The vampire replied. "And I use the term 'friend' loosely. More like, an associate who can't be trusted to watch your back."

Dean looked the vampire over closely. He was dressed in jeans, a red plaid shirt, and work boots. His clothes were stained with blood and his skin was pale. He definitely had the look of both a hunter and a newly made vampire. And Dean could easily put together the pieces.

"You're Gordon's hunting partner."

"Was. Until he handed me over to these bastards with his dumbass plan. And now it seems that he somehow roped you into helping him out."

"Yeah. He kidnapped my baby brother and threatened to kill him if I didn't do what he wanted. But… but he said that you were the one holding Sammy hostage."

The vampire let out a laugh. "Obviously he lied."

Dean shook his head. "No. He took Sammy. I know he did. So, if my brother's not with you…" The boy thought hard about everything he'd seen Gordon do and heard Gordon say. He had a phone, but never used it to contact anyone. They never left the car, not even to eat their food. He'd drugged Dean, so he'd have had plenty of time to do anything for hours. Gordon had kept his weapons bag in the backseat of his car, and he'd never opened the trunk at all, at least not in front of Dean. Putting all of that together, the boy knew what Gordon had done with Sammy. "Gordon's dead. I'm going to kill him. I am going to freakin' kill Gordon."

Gordon's ex-partner snorted. "Good for you, kid. But if you wouldn't mind killing me first, I'd really appreciate it."

Dean looked over at him. "Have you… uh, have you fed?"

"I didn't want to, but they made me. And the hunger… it's just so damn impossible to control. I know I'm a monster, kid. And you're a hunter. We both know how this ends."

"Yeah, we do." Dean replied, somewhat regretfully. It sucked that this poor bastard had to meet a gruesome end just because he made a dumb decision and partnered up with the biggest douche-bag of the hunting community.

"Tell Gordon he's an ass." The ex-hunter requested.

"I think I'll use stronger words than that, but I promise he'll get the message."

The guy nodded. "Good. And in case you're wondering, I offed one of the vamps. I think that's why they turned me. They like to keep their number at nine. And they got some victims up in the attic."

"I know. They'll be fine."

"Yeah… Well, let's get this over with then."

"Yeah."

After the hunter turned vampire was taken care of, Dean crept back over to the door and listened. He didn't hear anything. There were still six vampires out there, but they didn't seem to be close by. So, the small hunter eased the door open and slipped out.

He started off for the door when a tall male vampire came around a corner and stopped to stare at him. Dean ran towards him, hoping to catch him by surprise. The vamp grinned and came at him, reaching his arm out to grab the boy's shirt. Dean found himself lifted up into the air. From that position, there was no way that he could decapitate the vampire. But that didn't mean that he was out of options.

The small hunter reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the needles he'd kept stashed in there. He used his teeth to yank the cap off and stabbed it into the monster's skin. Dean depressed the stopper and injected the dead man's blood into the vampire. As the fluid acted like a poison to the creature, Dean was released and fell to the ground. He landed in a crouch as the vamp crumpled to the ground. Moments later, it was missing its head. Sure, it had taken a good three blows to decapitate this freak, but it was done. Four vamps were now dead. And Dean could see the front door.

The boy reached the door with no further problems. He unlocked it and swung it open. Dean looked out and didn't see any sign of Gordon Walker. He didn't know how he felt about that. On the one hand, seeing the man at this point would've just pissed him off further. But on the other, there were still five more vampires left and Dean hoped that the older hunter wasn't planning on hanging him out to dry like he had his previous partner. The boy wasn't about to meet the same fate as that poor bastard.

Dean left the door open and went back into the house to continue the hunt. Whether or not that son of a bitch showed his damned face, there were still monsters to kill and victims to save. He wondered if he should head back upstairs to check the rest of the rooms there. He'd passed three closed doors. Any of them could've hid vampires.

The boy had his right foot on the first step when he heard something right behind him. Dean turned around, machete ready, and saw Gordon standing there. He came close to finishing the man off right then and there, but knew that he might need the back up, so he lowered his weapon.

"There's five left." He whispered. "You go upstairs. I'll check the rooms down here."

"I'm in charge of this hunt." The dark-skinned hunter growled back.

"Like hell you are." Dean challenged. "You're a screw-up, Walker. I got us in, I know the layout better, I make the calls. There are three closed doors up there. Check them out and come back down."

Dean almost blurted out that he knew what had happened to Gordon's partner and knew the truth about where Sammy was, but that was something that he'd keep a secret for now. Which was why he'd decided to take the downstairs; so Gordon wouldn't find the remains of his hunting partner.

"Fine. But only because I agree with your plan. But you talk back again kid, and we are gonna have problems."

"You and me already have problems, asshat." Dean shot back.

Gordon backhanded him across the face. Only the thoughts of what was to come stopped Dean from getting into a full-fledged fight right then and there. He had a hunt to complete and a brother to get to. So, the small hunter settled for glaring at the man and turning his back on him.

Holding his weapon in one hand, Dean grasped the doorknob to the first room he came to and got ready to take a look inside.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Uh... this doesn't really count as a cliffhanger... And I beg of all Sammy fans not to kill me for what I did. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks._


	79. Sealed Fate

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! I took an extended weekend camping trip, but now I'm back! And none of the hellhounds you sent managed to kill me! Just so you know, a few of you have asked about Gordon's age, thinking he looked about Dean's age in the show. I admit he looked young but in his first appearance, Sam accused Dean of using Gordon as a replacement for their dad and I can't see Dean doing that if Gordon was Dean's own age, so I figure Gordon must've been older. Gordon's age is not revealed in the show, but I will be mentioning it in this story but if you're curious now I'll say he's about 25ish right now. Anyway, I want to thank viressiel, Mizunou, angelofheaven001, numb3rs mystery, Hasmik Aharonyan, DaisukethePenguin, Vampy, savannaharaiza, shirleypositive72, guest, if-llamas-could-fly, RoseDragon666, RighteousHate, LeeMarieJack, samiam13, Nyx Ro, AlElizabeth, Jasper6509, OnyxDay, Gustin azza, Amara Rose 4 Ever, crimsoneleven, Drew, VGiselleH, liebedero, Serie11, KatieJoy78, Invader Kiwi, celestialstaynight, MeemeBear, Kitsune1818, murtaghxblaiseyum, LilyBolt, Elise, Shorty22133, Lelouch's right hand, Laurette, BranchSuper, Smile or else, ouran1996, roy23, BelievesInNargles, XdarkkissX, drsummers, Tomboy15103, newyorkie, and Eliza Ghost for their wonderful reviews. You guys are awesome! _

**Chapter Seventy-Nine: Sealed Fate **

Dean opened the door and peered down into a dimly lit basement. He couldn't see much so he started to creep quietly down the stairs. There was a light on down there and, as Dean descended, he could see that it was coming from a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. From his position on the stairs, the boy could see that the basement was partially finished and there was a large king-sized bed in the middle of a hideous rug to the right. And lying on the bed was the large form that had to be none other than the lead vamp himself. Dean saw the vampire twitch a bit as the step he was on creaked slightly. Nope. Not going down there yet. Far too risky. So, he carefully backtracked and closed the door. Then Dean noticed that the door had a bolt lock a bit higher up. He considered latching it, but decided against it. The sound would certainly tip off anyone down there that something was up. Besides, vamps were strong and while it would slow down a vampire trying to get upstairs, it wouldn't stop him.

The young hunter walked past a large kitchen and into a dining area. From there he found a small hallway with three doors. The first was a linen closet. The second was an empty bedroom. Dean was just thinking that he was striking out when he pulled open the final door. It turned out to be the bathroom and it was occupied by a vampire chick that was in the middle of styling her still wet hair.

"Uh sorry, should've knocked. Totally my mistake." Dean commented as she spun around to face him in shock.

The boy raised his machete and lunged forwards, aiming a kick at her knee to knock her down as he had the female vamp upstairs. But the chick sprung back, then rushed Dean, leaving the young hunter little room to maneuver in the small bathroom. He tried to dodge to the left but the vampire snatched his shirt and swung him into the wall. He grunted and launched a kick at her. It connected, but not as hard as he'd like. She smacked him across the face (and what was up with everyone doing that to him lately?) which left him feeling slightly dazed. Dean blinked a couple times and tried to push the bitch off of himself. But she was strong and from the position he was in, the boy couldn't get the machete around to decapitate her. And then he found himself being pushed backwards and down. Dean thought at first that she was going to try and feed on him, but then his head was pushed into the bathtub and underwater.

The boy was unprepared for it and thus ended up taking in a huge mouthful of water and accidentally swallowing it. Dean gagged, coughed, and choked, but couldn't pull in any air. His eyes were wide as he thrashed about trying to get free. But the vamp bitch held tight. In a desperate move, Dean stopped his flailing and brought both his hands to hold onto the handle of the machete. With what strength he had left, the small hunter brought the sharp weapon down on the vampire's wrist. He was released as a hand and a fountain of blood joined him in the tub of water. Dean slid further in for a few seconds as he fought for purchase and then managed to get his head above the now pink water. He gasped for air as he sputtered out the water that had gotten caught in his lungs.

The vamp bitch was shrieking as she held her severed wrist and Dean took the opportunity that her hysterics was providing to dart around her and climb up onto the toilet for added height. The chick seemed to realize that he'd move and turned, but too late. Dean swung his machete and separated her head from her neck. Then he dropped down to sit on the closed toilet lid and took a deep, yet shaky breath.

The fight, and near drowning, had left him tired. But Dean knew that he wasn't done yet. He was going to have to pull himself together, go out there, clear the rest of this floor, meet up with the asshole known as Gordon Walker, kill the lead vamp, take care of Gordon, and then go out to the car and free Sammy from the trunk where the little guy had been trapped since the previous day. Sammy. His brother was going to be traumatized after this. No. No, he couldn't afford to think about that right now. _Focus on one thing at a time, Dean. Step one is to get off your tired, half-drowned ass and go make sure that there's no more vampires lurking around on this floor. _Dean mentally flipped off the voice in his head, but pulled himself to his feet and followed his own orders.

It turned out that there wasn't much more for him to explore, and by the time he made it back to the stairs where he and Gordon had parted ways, the other hunter was waiting for him. And Dean noticed that the door leading to the room where he'd encountered the dark-skinned hunter's previous partner was wide open. The boy glanced from it to the man and back again.

"Something you want to tell me?" Gordon asked.

"I don't know." Dean replied. "Anything _you_ want to get off _your_ chest?"

They glared at each other a moment.

"You know who he was." It wasn't a question, so Dean said nothing and Gordon continued. "Then you must've figured out…"

"That you couldn't have left Sammy with him." Dean finished. "Yeah. And I know where he is. You're one sick son of a bitch to lock a five year old in the trunk of your car. And if I didn't think that the vampires might've come outside in the time it would've taken me to pick the lock and get him out, I would've left your ass here to get eaten and gotten my brother to safety by now."

Gordon practically snarled at him. "Well, I still got the keys to the trunk and a gun to put a bullet in baby brother's head. So you knowing the truth changes nothing." Dean glared at him as the older hunter actually pulled out the gun and held it up. "Now, I got three of them upstairs. You kill anymore?"

"One more. And the leader's in the basement." Dean responded in an icy tone and pointed at the door.

"Then let's finish this and go our separate ways." Dean watched as the man opened the basement door and looked down. Then Gordon turned to him with a gleam in his eyes. "You know what we need? Bait." He stepped forwards and roughly grabbed Dean's arm. The boy was pulled towards the stairs but he jerked his arm away from the ruthless hunter.

"No way. That's crazy. I go down as bait, I'm dead."

Gordon shrugged. "We'll never take him by surprise. He's gotta know we're here and he'll be lying in wait. Beast plan I got is I send you down and then kill him while he's busy."

"Hell no. I'll be killed, and the vamp is probably too smart to let himself get distracted by eating to the point that he wouldn't notice a hunter sneaking up on him. I won't do it."

Gordon cocked his gun. "I need bait. And it's either going to be you or I go out to my car and get your brother." Then he grinned. "You know, that's an even better idea. We use little Sammy. Then we'll have a distracted vampire and two hunters to kill it. And I'll know for sure that you'll be motivated to take out the vampire as quickly as possible."

And that was it. Dean had had a plan. The plan was to work with Gordon to gank all the vampires _before_ taking care of the hunter, that way the boy wouldn't have to face off against the leader by himself. But at the man's words, Dean saw red and threw his plan out the window.

He ran straight at Gordon and swung his machete, burying the blade deep into the man's right thigh. The hunter screamed in shock and pain and dropped the gun to grab at the wound. Dean reached out and went to grab the weapon, but Gordon shoved him back, pulled the machete free and took a swing at the boy. The smaller of the two combatants dropped down and the blade merely grazed the side of his head. He gasped in pain, but crawled forward and snatched up the gun. Then he rolled away from the enraged hunter. Gordon kicked out but missed Dean and almost collapsed to the ground as his weight was shifted to his injured leg. The boy scrambled to his feet and aimed the pistol at the man.

"What are you going to do, boy? Shoot me? You don't have the balls?"

"Really? That's what you think? You kidnap my brother, threaten to kill him, make me do your dirty work, and now were going to feed him to a vampire and you think I won't kill you. Think again." Then Dean looked behind Gordon and to the dimly lit staircase. His eyes widened as he saw a dark figure starting to ascend the steps. "But you know what, I don't think I will shoot you dead."

He watched as Gordon seemed to relax a bit. "See kid, I knew you didn't have it in you. Now hand the gun over and let's finish this job."

Dean pulled the trigger and shot the man in the left knee, dropping him to the ground. "I said I wouldn't shoot you dead. I didn't say that I wouldn't kill you. You're far too dangerous to my family to allow you to live. But you know what? You were gonna feed Sammy to a vamp? I think this is kinda poetic." With that, Dean stepped forwards and kicked Gordon in the chest, knocking him backwards and down the stairs, right at the huge vampire that had paused to watch the confrontation.

Dean stayed in place long enough to watch as the vamp sunk his fangs into Gordon's neck and practically tore his entire throat out. Then the boy slammed the door shut and latched it. It wouldn't hold for long at all, so he'd have to move fast.

The small hunter snatched up his machete that the other hunter had dropped when he'd been shot and ran back upstairs all the way to the attic. The cut on his head stung a bit and blood was trickling down the side of his face, but he knew that it wasn't serious. It didn't even slow him down.

When he reached the large room, he ran to the first bed and cut the woman free. Then he handed her a knife.

"Start freeing the others." He instructed and then moved on to a guy that was tied down. Once he was free, Dean gave him a knife as well. Then he turned to address them. "There's still a vampire locked in the basement and he's gonna break free soon enough but the rest are dead. And this one's not gonna come up here for you guys. He's gonna be after me. But I need to go help my brother now, so I gotta count on you guys to take care of each other. Those who're stronger help the others but stay put. If you try to get downstairs while the vampire's still in the house, he _will_ kill you. Once it's safe, I'll have a friend named Cas come and let you know. Then you guys can get the hell outta here and get some medical help. And don't mention me to the cops, okay? Or say anything about vampires unless you wanna be locked up in the looney bin. The whole kidnapped by a cult excuse works best."

He turned and started to head for the stairs when a small voice stopped him. "Thank you."

Dean turned and smiled at the woman that he'd first encountered upon entering the house. "It's my job. But, you're welcome."

Then he ran back downstairs and out the front door. He was pleasantly surprised to note that the cellar door was still closed and latched. The vampire must still be enjoying his meal. The whole feeding the vamp idea that Gordon had had actually turned out to be a good distraction.

Dean reached Gordon's piece of crap car and raced around to the trunk. Realizing that he had no lock picks on him, the boy opened the backdoor and started to fish through all of the deceased hunter's junk to find something that would work. After a moment, he went back to the trunk with two pieces of wire. Dean inserted them and wiggled them around, expertly feeling for the right positions. The boy breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the lock give a click. Dean didn't even bother to remove the wires as he slid his fingers under the lip of the trunk and lifted it open.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Hope you all enjoyed. Next time, we get to see how Sammy's doing, oh and there's still one vamp left... Please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks. _


	80. Out of the Trunk and into the Fire

_**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Well, it looks like no one is mourning Gordon's death... I want to thank angelofheaven001, XdarkkissX, Bard of Chaos, Tomboy15103, RighteousHate, liebedero, AlElizabeth, Nyx Ro, numb3rs mystery, Lelouch's right hand, VGiselleH, Sanshal, RoseDragon666, savannaharaiza, LadyKnightofCelestia, Abigail Janee, DaisukethePenguin, MissySelenity, celestialstarynight, Lau, OnyxDay, Drew, Cyenthia 30, LeeMarieJack, Serie11, Gustin azza, Amara Rose 4 Ever, roy23, BranchSuper, KatieJoy78, rarasisboomba, zhen123, shadow visor, murtaghxblaiseyum, Jasper6509, Mizunou, crimsoneleven, Neumzie, MeemeBear, I'd-Rather-Be-A-Winchester, Uryuu-Nipaa, LilyBolt, and Known Unknowns for their awesome reviews. You guys are the best! We are 80 chapters in and it wouldn't have been possible without your support. So yeah... thanks!_

**Chapter Eighty: Out of the Trunk and Into the Fire **

It was dark and chilly and Sammy was so very scared. He'd been tied up and gagged in the trunk of Gordon's car for so long now. He'd been put back there yesterday and taken out last night only to see his brother sleeping in the front seat. He'd called Dean's name but the bad man had laughed at him and said that his big brother was not going to wake up. That scared Sammy a lot. What had happened to Dean? He looked okay, except for the fact that he was making little noises in his sleep. Gordon had given Sammy some food and water and let him sit in the back seat for a while. But as the sun was starting to come up, Sammy was dragged back out and tossed into the trunk again. The little boy had cried and begged and pleaded but the man had hit him in the face and told him to shut up. Then he'd taped Sammy's mouth shut again and tied his hands and feet and told him that if he wasn't quiet, both Dean and Sammy would be shot in the head. Gordon had even shown the boy his gun, pushing it up against his head. So Sammy had tried to stay quiet.

After a very long time the trunk had opened again and Gordon had told him that Dean was fighting the vampires and that if he lived through it Sammy would be going home soon. Then the trunk was closed again.

Now Sammy was crying softly. He was hungry and thirsty and scared and the man had left him in so long without letting him use the bathroom that he'd had an accident, so he was wet too. He just wanted Dean to be okay and come back and make everything better. He'd heard his brother screaming early that morning and hoped that the bad man hadn't hurt Dean.

Just then he heard what sounded like the trunk being unlocked. He was happy but scared too. He didn't want to be in here any longer, but what if Gordon told him that Dean was dead? Or just shot him? Or…

The trunk opened and Sammy looked up to see Dean staring down at him. The bad man was no where to be seen. Sammy felt like shouting for joy.

"Sammy! Oh god! It's okay, Sammy. I'm here and I'm gonna get you outta there." Dean reached in and helped Sammy sit up. Then he gently pulled the tape off of the boy's mouth.

"Dean! You're okay! But you're hurt." And he was. Sammy's big brother was wet from his chest up, his face was bruised, and he had a cut on the side on his head that was bleeding a little. Sammy knew that Dean had gotten hurt before but their dad had always fixed him up before Sammy got to see his brother. He'd never seen the older boy still bleeding before.

"It's nothing, Sammy. What about you? How did this happen?" Dean touched the sore spot on Sammy's face where Gordon had hit him.

"The bad man hit me."

Dean made a face that Sammy had only seen once before, after someone had tried to take Sammy's lunch money, and right before Dean had punched them. "Well, you don't ever have to worry about him again, Sammy. I took care of him."

"He… he won't hurt me again?"

"Never. I promise."

"Okay, Dean." Sammy trusted Dean to keep his promises and to keep him safe.

Dean pulled out a switchblade knife and cut the rope that had tied Sammy's feet together. Then he reached around the boy and freed his hands. Sammy threw his arms around his brother. Dean pulled him out of the trunk and held him tight. After a moment he let go.

"There's a phone in the car, Sammy. I'm gonna grab it and call Cas to come and take you home, okay?"

"What about you, Dean?" Sammy followed his brother as the older boy walked around to the front of the car.

"After Cas drops you off at home, I'm gonna need his help back here to finish something up. But then I'll be home with you. And we'll have some hot cocoa and cookies and I'll let you sleep in my room tonight. How's that sound?"

Sammy thought that that sounded perfect. After the last two days, he needed Dean to make everything alright. But he wished that Dean was coming right home with him. The little boy watched his big brother open the front door and pull out a large, black phone. Dean tried to turn it on and then muttered a word that Sammy had heard their daddy use before but then had told them never to repeat.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

"Battery's dead. Makes sense. Gordon never needed to use the damned thing, so he didn't care about charging it." Dean threw the phone down onto the ground. Then he ran his hands through his hair as Sammy stood watching him. "Okay… okay. C'mon, Sammy. We gotta go find a phone somewhere. There's a bunch of houses in this neighborhood, further down the road, and I'm sure one of them will let us borrow their phone."

"But Dean, Daddy and Mommy say to never go into strangers' houses."

"I know, Sammy. But we gotta move fast. Besides, now that we're outta that car and away from that symbol I saw in the trunk, maybe Cas will sense us and just disobey my orders and come on his own. Either way, I'll keep you safe."

Sammy had no clue what Dean was talking about, but as his brother handed him a bottle of water he'd grabbed from the car, the little boy decided that it didn't matter. He took a huge gulp of the water and smiled. Dean had rescued him and was taking care of him. He was safe.

He kept thinking that right up until someone grabbed him by the arm.

"Dean!" Sammy shouted.

Dean had been standing by his side and spun around to face him. Sammy turned his head, trying to see who'd grabbed him, fearing that he'd see Gordon standing there. But the guy definitely wasn't Gordon. He was taller and stronger and his skin was so pale. The man's hair was also very light, even lighter than Dean's hair. His eyes were blue and he looked so mean.

"Let him go." Dean ordered.

"But I'm still hungry." The man protested. "Even after that wonderful meal I just had. Figured I'd have me some dessert now."

Sammy was confused. Did this guy want money to buy food? If he did, he was out of luck. Sammy didn't carry any cash on him. But maybe Dean did. If so, the boy hoped that his brother would just give it to the guy so he'd go away. 'Cause if Dean tried to fight him, the older boy would get hurt for sure. And Sammy was scared and tired and just wanted to go home.

"Not gonna happen. Now, release him and step away."

"I can… or I can do this." Without any further warning, the big man grabbed Sammy around his waist and lifted him into the air. Sammy screamed in fear but the man cut him off. "Shut up! Now little hunter, you and I need to talk." Sammy turned his head again to look at the man and saw that his mouth, which was very close to the boy's face, was filled with sharp teeth. Something Gordon had said came back to him. Vampire. This man was a vampire. And Dean must've been here to hunt them, just like Gordon had planned. It was all true! But he couldn't even think on it much because the man… vampire kept talking to Dean. "When I broke out of my cellar, I saw the carnage left behind on the main floor. I can only imagine that the second floor looks the same. Now, I know who Walker is. I knew he was targeting us even before we turned his last partner. So, his turning up at my home tonight was not that big of a shock. But imagine my surprise when I smelled your scent, not that of Walker's on the corpses of my fallen comrades. A boy that has yet to hit puberty has taken out my entire nest? How is this even possible?"

"Maybe you and your nest just aren't as badass as you seem to think you are?" Sam watched as Dean shrugged.

"And then you kill Walker? It makes no sense."

Sammy's eyes widened. Dean _killed_ Gordon? No way.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Don't play stupid. You heard the entire conversation and you know exactly why I did what I did. Besides, I just shot him in the knee to protect Sammy. You're the one who killed him."

"However you want to word it, hunter. But you are a curious creature. You'd make a great addition to my nest."

"No, I really wouldn't. Trust me on this. The last douche-bag vamp that tried that ended up with no head. Oh, and by the way, just in case you forgot, you have no nest for me to join."

The vampire tightened his grip on Sammy and the boy tried his hardest not to scream or cry or make any noise that would upset the vampire and get him killed. He didn't want to die.

"I didn't forget. But I think I'll just kill your baby brother for revenge, turn you, and then start a new nest. How does that sound?"

Tears leaked out of Sammy's eyes. He was so scared. "Dean." He whispered in a pleading voice.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean replied. And Sammy believed him. Dean would make it better. "This loser won't kill you. I won't let him."

"And how are you going to stop me?" The vampire challenged.

"Like this." Dean suddenly charged forwards and Sammy had never seen him move so fast. And he had something in his hand. It looked like a needle, like the doctors gave them when they went for their check-ups. Except they always had to go to a special doctor that Uncle Bobby knew for Dean because Daddy said that other doctors would ask questions about Dean's scars.

But when Dean got close to the vampire, Sammy was thrown to the side. He hit the ground hard and rolled on the pavement. He screamed in pain as his left ankle twisted. It hurt a lot and the little boy grabbed at it and cried. His left knee was hurting too. Sammy looked and saw that his good school pants were torn and his knee was bleeding a little. The boy sat on the hard ground sniffling and wiping at his tears before remembering that there was a vampire still near him. And Dean was fighting it to keep him safe.

Sammy looked over and gasped at the sight. The broken needle was lying on the ground not too far away from him. Why Dean had had it and what he was going to do with it, Sammy didn't know, but it was obvious that he hadn't ever gotten a chance to use it. Because Sammy's big brother was now held up by the front of his shirt by the large and mean-looking vampire. Dean was struggling but he couldn't get free.

"Dean!" Sammy meant to call out but it only emerged as a whisper.

The vampire grabbed a handful of Dean's hair and jerked his head to the side. Sammy watched in horror as the creature's teeth got close to his brother's neck. He was certain that Dean was going to die. But at the last moment, the older boy braced his legs against the vampire and tried to push away. He didn't succeed in escaping, but he twisted away enough that the fangs missed his neck and sunk into his shoulder instead. Sammy watched as the sharp teeth tore at his brother's skin and blood ran down his t-shirt. Dean let out a cry and still tried to fight back.

"Dean!" Sammy screamed, praying that something would save his brother. He couldn't lose Dean. Sammy had just been kidnapped but Dean had rescued him. Sammy had learned that vampires were real, but Dean had protected him from one. No matter what happened, Sammy could count on Dean. So Dean just couldn't die. He couldn't.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **Uh... Please don't kill me... I'm really afraid that I won't survive the wrath of the Sam fans. Or even the Dean fans after the ending. But please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. _


	81. Not Safe Yet

_**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Sorry, I really wanted to get this out yesterday, but health and family stuff has set my writing terribly off schedule. But here I am, with a new chapter and there will definitely be other update this week too. You know, if you guys don't all kill me for what happens in this one... I want to thank Laurette, angelofheaven001, VGiselleH, liebedero, guest, celestielstarynight, Tomboy15103, Jasper6509, DaisukethePenguin, savannaharaiza, Nyx Ro, Smile or else, Drew, Gustin azza, if-llamas-could-fly, LilyBolt, KatieJoy78, Abigail Janee, AlElizabeth, Eliza Ghost, OnyxDay, Neumzie, BranchSuper, LeeMarieJack, MeemeBear, Serie11, Known Unknowns, guest, guest, angel de acuario, shadow visor, RoseDragon666, crimsoneleven, guest, samiam13, SuperWhoPotterLock, ouran1996, and KatieForestpelt for their awesome reviews. You guys are wonderful. _

**Chapter Eighty-One: Not Safe Yet **

The vampire's grip on his hair was incredibly painful, but not nearly as bad as the agony that was radiating out from the torn flesh of Dean's left shoulder. But the young hunter was grateful that he'd been able to shift enough that the fangs had missed his jugular, or he wouldn't be making it out of this alive. Still, he'd have to get free quickly if he didn't want to pass out from blood loss. If that happened, he'd either never wake up, or worse yet, wake as a vampire. Again.

"Dean!"

Damn. He'd hoped that Sammy would run off once the vampire had thrown him but it seemed as though his baby brother was still there.

"Sammy, stay back!"

He couldn't turn his head to see the younger boy, at least not without tearing more flesh from his body than he could survive without. But he trusted that Sammy would listen to him. This wasn't the headstrong young man that would rush to his rescue. This was a terrified little kid that would look to his big brother to make everything better. Now it was just up to Dean to follow through and actually make everything better. Because if he died at this bastard's hands, Sammy would surely be next.

But it was the whole 'not dying' thing that was gonna be a bitch to accomplish. The rather large vampire had the advantage and Dean was losing blood rapidly. How the son of a bitch could even still be hungry after draining Gordon, the young hunter didn't know, but it was obvious that the creature still had plenty of room in its stomach for more.

Dean tried to ignore the fear and pain and push past the lightheadedness as he reached into his pocket for his last needle. His hand trembled slightly. The boy acknowledged that his fingers were a bit numb, but that was just another thing he'd have to place on the backburner for the moment. Survival took precedent to everything else. He'd take stock of all the rest once he made it through this and Sammy and him were home safe. Dean was just glad that this hadn't happened a couple of years ago. Nowadays he'd learned to control his younger emotions so much better than when Cas had first brought him back and placed him in this smaller packaging.

The boy flicked the plastic cap off the sharp end of the needle and held it in his fist. Then he brought it up and plunged it into the vamp's neck. After emptying the contents into the vampire, Dean prayed it would work before he died of blood loss. But even if it didn't, it would slow the monster down enough that maybe Sammy could escape to a nearby house and call home for help. And as long as Sammy would be safe, Dean would be content.

Then Dean found himself falling to the pavement. He tucked himself into the best crouch he could and rolled as he hit the hard and unforgiving ground. A cry of pain escaped his lips as his wounded shoulder was jostled but Dean pushed through it. The vampire had collapsed to his knees but was still trying to reach forwards and grab at the small hunter. Holy crap! This guy just didn't quit. And apparently he was big enough that he'd have needed a larger dose of dead man's blood. But Dean didn't have any more, so this would just have to do.

The boy move quicker than he should've been able to with his injured body. He darted to Gordon's car and retrieved the machete that he'd put down when he'd gotten his brother out of the trunk. Then he raced back to where the lead vampire was still trying to get his paralyzed body to respond to him and raised the blade up high.

"You lose, douche-bag. Enjoy your never ending vacation in Purgatory." Then he chopped said-douche-bag's head off. Well, he tried in any case. But his shoulder was screaming in agony, he was exhausted, the blade wasn't as sharp as it had been after cutting through multiple flesh and neck bones, and this vampire's neck was incredibly thick. So the blade cut in about a quarter of the way and got stuck. Blood flew out and Dean grunted as he yanked his weapon free. Then he tried again. And again. It took five blows for him to hack the damned creature's head off and when he finally did, the boy fell to his knees alongside the remains. Dean's head was spinning and he felt like he was about to pass out.

"D… Dean?"

Oh, crap. Sammy. Sammy had seen the whole thing. Dean turned his head to see his brother sitting quite a few feet away, clutching at his left leg with tears running down his face. The older boy struggled to his feet and made his way over to his brother.

"Sammy, are you alright?"

"I hurted my knee and my ankle, Dean." But he wasn't even looking at Dean. His large, too wide eyes were staring at the decapitated mess lying behind the young hunter.

"Don't look at that, Sammy." Dean instructed, gently taking the little boy's head in his hands and turning it to face him. "It… it was…"

"A vampire." Sammy whispered. "Gordon told me."

Damn Gordon. Not that Dean could've really kept the truth a secret at this point anyway. "Yeah. But you don't have to worry about it anymore."

"You killed it. You saved me."

Dean forced a smile to his face. "'Course I did, Sammy. I'll always save you."

Sammy threw his little arms around him and hugged Dean tight. Dean grunted in pain and the younger boy let him go.

"Oh! Oh, did that hurt? I'm sorry, Dean. You're bleeding badder than me. You need a lot of band-aids on that."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, I guess I do." Then he gently pushed Sammy away from him far enough that he could look the little boy over. His little brother's eye's were too wide and filled with fear, but Sammy was smiling a little a seemed comforted by Dean's mere presence. Dean knew that the full effects of these events had yet to settle in but he'd be there for the smaller boy and could help him through it. Physically, Sammy was in damn good shape for a five year old that had just been through hell. He had a bruise on his face from that son of a bitch Gordon, a scratched-up knee, and was saying his ankle was sore. The boy was also probably a bit dehydrated and hungry and looked about as exhausted as Dean felt. But it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. First though, they'd need to get home. "We have to get moving, Sammy. We still need to get to a phone."

"But Dean, my leg hurts too bad to walk. I don't wanna get up."

Dean shifted back and lifted the small ankle up into his lap. He carefully pushed the pant leg up to get a look. There was a very tiny bit of swelling but nothing too bad. Probably a sprain. "C'mon Sammy, I'll help you."

Biting back a groan of pain, Dean got to his knees and wrapped his good right arm around his little brother. Standing on the smaller boy's left side, he pulled Sammy to his feet. Dean almost stumbled himself, but held it together and managed to help his brother limp down the street. His still bleeding shoulder was screaming in agony, but he knew that he had to get them to safety. Gordon was dead and so was the vamp, but if he passed out from blood loss, that would leave Sammy alone and injured for anyone out here to pick up. Not a great situation.

The boys stumbled down the street together, sticking to the sidewalks, close to hedges and any shadows Dean could find. There weren't any houses down this way, but the older brother wasn't taking any chances of them being seen and the police being called. Once Cas was here and the victims were out of that house, the place and all the headless corpses in it would be torched. His fingerprints were everywhere in there and he wasn't risking getting in trouble for murder this early in his life.

Once they turned the corner up at the end of the long road and entered a nicer looking portion of the neighborhood, Dean began looking around for a good house to knock on the door of. He finally chose one that still had their lights on. There were two cars in the driveway indicating the likelihood of more than one resident, hopefully a married couple that would be sympathetic to two injured children. The brothers approached the door and Dean rang the bell.

A woman opened the door and looked down at Dean with a gasp. "Oh my god! What… what happened to you? I'll call 911."

"No," Dean shook his head. "Please ma'am, can… can we just come in and use your phone. We don't live too far away and our parents can take us to the hospital. I just need to call them. Please." Then under his breath, he whispered "Christo" just to be sure.

"Are you sure? It looks bad." The woman seemed slightly panicked.

"Honey? What's going on? Who's at the door? Is it… holy crap!" A guy exclaimed as he walked up behind the woman.

"These boys need a phone to call their parents and get to the hospital."

"Of course. Uh, should we just call an ambulance? Their parents can meet them there."

"No, thank you, sir." Dean replied. Then he quietly repeated his demon check. Still clean. "My parents… uh, lost someone in a similar way. I can't talk about it around my little brother but if they got a call like that, they'd panic for sure. Better they get a call from me and drive us there themselves."

"What happened?" The man asked as they stepped aside to let the boys in.

"Dog attacked us." Dean responded, pleased that Sammy was letting him do all the talking. "Bit me, and my brother hurt his ankle when I pushed him away from it. But we got away. Don't know where it is now."

The woman covered her mouth with her hand and gasped. "Oh you poor boys! Come sit down in the living room. The phone's in there anyways."

Dean helped Sammy limp into the well-furnished room. There was a large picture window looking out into the front yard, and a pretty expensive looking chandelier. A couch, loveseat, armchair, coffee table, and two end tables completed the room. And on one of the end tables sat a telephone. Dean let out a sigh of relief and headed over to it.

"Here Sammy, sit down and I'll call Dad and Mom, okay?"

Sammy nodded. "'Kay, Dean."

The older brother was just about to place Sammy on the couch when he heard the man behind him clear his throat.

"Change of plans, Dean."

Dean froze. The tone was wrong, not at all the same as it had been just seconds ago. But he didn't let it show that he'd caught on as he responded without looking. "I already told you that it's not necessary to call an ambulance."

He tightened his grip on Sammy and started moving away from the couch. Dean glanced over and saw that the couple was blocking the doorway they'd just entered the room through. That was the only way in or out of the living room. They were trapped.

"No one's calling any ambulances. Besides, I doubt that paramedics can do too much for little boys after their insides are on their outsides." The man commented casually.

Then both the man and woman smirked at the brothers as their eyes turned black.

Sammy screamed in terror and Dean wrapped his arms around him protectively.

"Back off, you black-eyed sons of bitches! I'll kill you both!"

"Tough words, Winchester." The man snarled. "But how exactly are you going to do that when you're wounded and weaponless?"

Dean cursed himself for not bringing the machete with him. Of course, it would've been hard to explain to a nice couple when he was trying to get help, but it would be extremely helpful right now.

"Then I'll just have to kill you with my bare hands." Dean put on his most dangerous expression.

But the demon possessed couple took a step closer. Dean looked around the room and got an idea. It would be painful, but it would work. The older brother wrapped his arms around Sammy and dragged him backwards away from the evil bastards.

"Just give up, Dean." The woman demanded. "And we'll kill your brother quickly before we drag you off to Alastair."

"How'd you even know where I was?" Dean asked, a combination of curiosity and distraction tactics.

"_She's_ been keeping a close eye on you." The woman replied. "And got a bit of help this time."

"Right, 'cause that's not a cryptic-ass answer." Dean mumbled.

"Oh you'll find out everything soon enough." The man said.

"I think not." Dean shot back.

He hugged Sammy, who was crying in fear, tightly to himself, burying the little boy's face in his own chest. Then Dean threw himself sideways through the large picture window and tumbled out into the front lawn.

He hit the ground hard, his body still wrapped around the smaller body. Dean hoped that Sammy hadn't gotten badly cut by the glass but it had been the only escape he'd seen. The young hunter used his feet to push them away from the sharp debris of the broken window before he let go of his brother.

Dean looked over to see the couple climbing out from the broken window. He was about to order Sammy to run, figuring that his brother would be safer out on his own in the dark than with the demons, when he turned his head and saw a pair of feet step just inches from his face.

_**Author's Note Part Two: **What? What's that? You are all impressed that I've been able to think up this many cliffhangers in a row? You want even more? Or is that just more death threats I'm hearing? Either way, please leave a review. Thanks. _


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